Chapter Text
Here you are, sitting in front of your third cocktail drink, chatting and gossiping with your friends beside you.
You swore to yourself that you’d stop drinking this week—but your job seems to disagree.
Countless karens are flooding your small café shop lately; it’s driving you crazy. Where in hell are these people coming from? There weren’t this much before. You can feel your blood boils every time they talk with an attitude with you merely for the sake their ego. Unmannered customers like them just have to get what they want, satisfy their feelings even if it hurts other people. God, every tiny thought of them makes you furious.
One more little drink break wouldn’t hurt… right? — You thought to yourself.
Letting your mouth rambles whatever it wants to as alcohol melts your senses away, your negative thoughts dissolve into the sound of your friends’ sweet laughter. You don’t really realize what you said, but you can’t help but just laugh along with them.
A heavy exhale left your chest as you calm yourself down to prevent death from laughing too much. As you lift your head up, your eyes land on a tall male figure, sitting on the other side of the bar, also chatting with his supposed friends.
Short black hair with red bangs, red eyes, perhaps a canine thiren, and is comfortably dressed in a simple tank top with a jacket and a baggy pants.
A small glass of alcohol sits between his fingers, circling around the edge in a slow motion almost mindlessly.
Your heart flutters weirdly, you can sense yourself getting butterflies. You lean back against the counter, eyes glued to the man as blood rushes to your cheek.
“What are you look at?” one of your girlfriends teases, giggling with the widest knowing grin.
“Nothing,” you mumbles, eyes glancing to the side as you tilt your head. How can they always notice everything so fast? Even you yourself barely have just registered the feeling your stomach makes.
“Ooh, someone’s got a crush,” another remarks, nudging your shoulder. Her voice laces with cheekiness as the others noisily cackle with her.
“Shh! Keep it down!” you whispered loudly, “just saw someone weird.”
“Yeah right.”
“Oh, trust me for once.”
They don’t poke you any further, but they know. Everyone just laughs about it—for now.
“At least spill the tea if they ends up as your partner, and we’ll be happy,” your best friend jokes, covering her mouth with a hand as she let out unintentional giggles.
You rub the bridge of your nose and groan. Though, you can’t help but blurts out a quivered, quiet laugh along with your girlfriends. God, it’s not like you want to laugh with them so you can expose yourself; you uncontrollably just keep doing it!
.
.
.
Soon enough, your friends start to leave one by one, whether because someone their type hits on them or they’re just done with today. You’re all alone now, which also means you may get the chance to talk with the guy who has caught your eyes earlier.
You let out a slow, steady sigh. Paying for all your drinks, you’re ready to head out—but you don’t just yet. Your gaze carefully scans around the bar, hoping you’d find the man, until it once again, land upon a familiar figure you spotted earlier.
He’s still there, slowly emptying his glass, circling his finger on the edge of it as his tail occasionally wags to the sound of shoes clicking against the floor. His friends aren’t there anymore, he just looks like he’s enjoying the music aside from that he’s also on his phone.
You stare at him for a while, lost in thought. Would it be a good idea if you try talking to him?
Eventually, with the help of alcohol, you decide it’s best to do that since there’s a chance you might not meet this guy ever again after this. Risking to let go of a treasure you’re not positive you might find again surely isn’t that much of a smart choice.. right?
.
.
His ear shifts toward your direction as you walk up to him. He turns around slightly, catching the sight of you hopping onto the bar stool next to him.
You order a small drink to look as if you just got here. Since you already had enough; another whole cocktail would definitely be the death of you.
“I like your eyes,” you comment, resting your chin on the back of your hand as you glance at the thiren “they complements your hair well.”
Although you just said that because it’s the least creepy thing you've thought of to say to someone. You don't want to ruin your first impression.
His eyebrows raise slightly as his tail starts to oscillate swiftly. Laughing awkwardly, he raises a hand up to scratch his head. he replies, “ah.. thanks.”
“If you don’t mind me asking—what’s your name?” you ask with the friendliest smile you can present, crossing your wrist on another as you shift your body to adjust your posture.
The canine thiren stares at you for a few seconds. His face subtly presents a frown as his eyes squint at you, silently studying your body language. Despite all the effort to look normal, you just appear really drunk to him.
Reality eventually brings him back a few seconds later. He soon realizes that he’s been staring for a while now and quickly clears his throat to excuse himself. He stutters to find some words, fidgeting with his drink as he introduces himself, “it’s Manato.”
“Mm, Manato..” you mumbles as the alcohol’s starting to catch up to you fully. Your gaze rest on him for a moment, trying to process his name in your head.
“What an adorable name for a big guy.” you mutter with a soft cackle.
The man blinks. His cheeks go just red enough for you to notice it. Tail wagging slightly faster, he tries to grip on it to not make it too obvious. Good thing you're getting too drunk to fully acknowledge it.
A drink is served to you. You thank the bartender and take a sip, then set to back on the counter.
“You come here often?” you add, staring at your glass before looking back to the man.
“No, not really,” he laughs softly with the cutest smile you’ve ever seen.
Your heart skips a beat. Every second of staring at his face is making you lose your mind. Your cheeks turn slightly pink as warmth starts to spread across the rest of your body, actively melting your brain as you speak.
“Mm.. I can see that,” you snicker, tilting your head to the side.
“You’re a regular?” he asks, tilting his head along with yours, ears flickering briefly. Dear lord, how much you want to bite a good chunk of his cheeks for making you feel such cuteness aggression towards him.
You laugh lightly, glancing to the side as you mutter, “kind of.”
“I don’t come here that frequent, only when work gets too stressful.”
His eyebrows furrowed slightly as his ears lower a little. Gazing at you with pity, he mutters almost pathetically,
“Sorry to hear that..”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault anyways,” you chuckle, shifting your hand to rest your cheek on your knuckles.
“It’s quite normal for everyone no?” you sigh, then pour the leftover of your cocktail into your mouth in one go.
“Woah,” Manato mutters, raising his eyebrows at the sight.
“Hm? Can't do that?” you teases, setting the glass down. The thiren just slowly shakes his head.
“You planning on getting another drink? Or is that it?” you ask.
“A drink is enough for me,” he laughs quietly, “still trying to build a tolerance for alcohol.”
“Oh?” you murmur. Leaning your head more into your hand, you suggest, “.. I’d like offer to pay you the drink.”
“Ah—really? You don't really have to do that.. I don't—”
“Trust me it's fine.”
“No—really—”
.. And you two argue back and forth for a moment—not in a hostile way, of course—going on for a full minute.
The thiren finally gives in, darting his eyes away from yours for a second, muttering, “okay, fine.”
“See? Not that hard,” you joked with a lighthearted laugh. He merely sighs, tone obvious of defeat.
For the next 10 minutes, the two of you continue to talk, chattering about anything and everything as alcohol gradually consume both your mind and Manato’s.
As you talk your fingers trace from his palm to his forearm, brushing your fingertips against his skin as you talk. He doesn’t resist, letting you roam free—yeah, that’s definitely a good sign.
His ears occasionally flutter while you ramble about your days, catching your attention every time they do. Your hands itch badly to stroke those fluffy ears of his.
Another minute goes by. You often eye the flicking ears. Unable to resist your temptation any longer, you gather all your courage and ask, “May I touch your ears?”
Caught off-guard by the sudden request, the thiren stares at you momentarily, thinking whether he should let you do it or refuse.
The moment he finally nods, your eyes immediately light up with delight and excitement. You can’t help but let out a brief breathless giggle as you reach up.
Seeing you struggle a little, Manato instinctively lowers himself to your level, so it may be easier for you. Your fingertips makes contact with the soft, delicate fur, grazing from the tip to the base. Your palm caresses the back of his ears and lightly petting his head—since it’s right beside his head anyway.
The thiren remains silent as you continue. You catch a glimpse of his flushed cheeks from the corners of your eyes.
And that—pathetic puppy face, completely under your mercy of your hands. Can he get any more adorable?
You lift your other hand to cradles the side of his face, combing his hair with your fingers. You’re essencially giving him a free massage at this point, and he seems quite pleased to receive one.
Too engrossed of the soft sensation of his hair in your hands, you completely stop talking. All you have in your mind is that head covered in fluffiness of his. You softly and slowly caress the thiren’s head, rubbing your fingers in circles or
Manato doesn’t say anything, staying where he is and letting you satisfy your needs. You can hear the soft sound of his tail thumping against the leg of the stool he’s sitting on as you pet him.
.
.
“Y’know.. you’re really cute, Manato,” you whisper with a smirk, voice audible enough for him to hear as you tilt your head closer to your shoulder.
“Ah… thanks,” the thiren mumbles, a trembled, flustered snicker escaping him.
Oh dear, the things you would do to him.
“Oh, um… I haven't really gotten your name yet,” he stammers as realization suddenly hits his head.
You let out a lighthearted chuckle and lift your face upright, gazing into his eyes. Your fingers trace along his jawline to his chin, before letting go.
Closing a small space between the two of you, you lean right against his ear. “You'll have my name—” you whisper, voice quiet enough that only him can hear it. “—in the back of my car.”