One Cup of Coffee 7/?
Title: Coffee is a Love Drug
Characters: Reita x Saga (the GazettE; Alice Nine)
Summary: Two musicians. Hot, steaming, coffee in between. A story of how a man takes his first step into a closet.
Rating: Completely safe.
day1/ day2/ day30/ day 23/ day7 / day 24
a/n: unable to write.. I need a deadline *cough*inspiration*cough* so I can write again.
;(°Д°)//
Coffee is a Love Drug
Day 28
Here is the situation at hand: Put two musicians together, sit them opposite to each other, add in warm, steaming, coffee, and let them have a staring contest. Between Saga and myself, who would possibly win? By virtue of my competitive nature, I’d make sure of a victory so severely won that it could sit on my lap and talk on its own without my control.
And where was this idea borne from?
“I have a challenge for you today, Reita,” he greeted me as I made my way towards our usual spot, right behind the great swinging doors of the coffee place. His blonde hair looked as stiff as his crisp, white shirt, and he was wearing dark aviator shades and a smile that made me want to squirm in my seat.
“A staring contest.”
His words made my eyes go wide, and I mumbled my surprise. Why in the world did he want to win so badly against me?
We had our own version of a running competition yesterday, when he bet that I couldn’t outrun him in a 50-meter sprint. I thought he forgot how much I loved sports, and despite how I look, I actually worked out regularly. He chose the nearest park, and a bench served as the starting line, while another served as the finishing line. Naturally, I won our little contest the first time around. He even insisted on a second and a third, but I still outran him every time. Imagine the fiery look of jealousy in his eyes when he insisted that he would beat me one day in my own game, no matter what.
Hence this absurd idea of another competition.
I gave in easily, shrugging as I sat opposite him, foregoing the coffee and hoping to settle the game and calm down his competitive streak before he started hurting anyone. He only lowered his shades, staring darkly at me, a smirk grazing his features. I leaned back, pretending to be uninterested, waiting for him to explain it to me. I wasn’t eager to play his game, but I wanted to win, now that I’ve won everything he’s thrown my way. What’s there to stop me anyway?
“The mechanics are easy. On my count, we stare at each other. First one who blinks loses. Got it?”
I nodded. It was simple enough.
In this seemingly melodic flight of colours, I lost myself.
How do you describe that feeling? That sense of calm and contentedness with life, that warmth and the comfort of the objects, words, and persons surrounding you, wrapping around you like the warmest of scarves, and the thickest of wool jackets and the softest flickers of a hearth? Whatever that word is, maybe it’s safe to give it a name?
I wonder if he would mind if I chose his.
In the end, I still won.
But that was because he was distracted by a pretty waitress, as he so plainly defended himself, but instead of battling it out again, he just shrugged and allowed me to bask in the victory, trying to hide his widening grin.
“Fine,” he conceded, crossing his arms together. “You win.”
“What do I get?” I asked in return, a gleeful smile.
“The… best-friend-for-the-month award. I’ll win that next time, I swear.”
I only raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“What? I’m not lying. I won’t lose to you next time.” Then he scooted closer, his padded seat making dull scraping sounds against the wooden floor, and before I knew it, he had an arm wrapped comfortably around my shoulders.
I glanced sideways at him.
“Stop smiling or I’ll tie my nose band around your face.”
tbc..
Characters: Reita x Saga (the GazettE; Alice Nine)
Summary: Two musicians. Hot, steaming, coffee in between. A story of how a man takes his first step into a closet.
Rating: Completely safe.
day1/ day2/ day30/ day 23/ day7 / day 24
a/n: unable to write.. I need a deadline *cough*inspiration*cough* so I can write again.
;(°Д°)//
Coffee is a Love Drug
Day 28
Here is the situation at hand: Put two musicians together, sit them opposite to each other, add in warm, steaming, coffee, and let them have a staring contest. Between Saga and myself, who would possibly win? By virtue of my competitive nature, I’d make sure of a victory so severely won that it could sit on my lap and talk on its own without my control.
And where was this idea borne from?
“I have a challenge for you today, Reita,” he greeted me as I made my way towards our usual spot, right behind the great swinging doors of the coffee place. His blonde hair looked as stiff as his crisp, white shirt, and he was wearing dark aviator shades and a smile that made me want to squirm in my seat.
“A staring contest.”
His words made my eyes go wide, and I mumbled my surprise. Why in the world did he want to win so badly against me?
We had our own version of a running competition yesterday, when he bet that I couldn’t outrun him in a 50-meter sprint. I thought he forgot how much I loved sports, and despite how I look, I actually worked out regularly. He chose the nearest park, and a bench served as the starting line, while another served as the finishing line. Naturally, I won our little contest the first time around. He even insisted on a second and a third, but I still outran him every time. Imagine the fiery look of jealousy in his eyes when he insisted that he would beat me one day in my own game, no matter what.
Hence this absurd idea of another competition.
I gave in easily, shrugging as I sat opposite him, foregoing the coffee and hoping to settle the game and calm down his competitive streak before he started hurting anyone. He only lowered his shades, staring darkly at me, a smirk grazing his features. I leaned back, pretending to be uninterested, waiting for him to explain it to me. I wasn’t eager to play his game, but I wanted to win, now that I’ve won everything he’s thrown my way. What’s there to stop me anyway?
“The mechanics are easy. On my count, we stare at each other. First one who blinks loses. Got it?”
I nodded. It was simple enough.
In this seemingly melodic flight of colours, I lost myself.
How do you describe that feeling? That sense of calm and contentedness with life, that warmth and the comfort of the objects, words, and persons surrounding you, wrapping around you like the warmest of scarves, and the thickest of wool jackets and the softest flickers of a hearth? Whatever that word is, maybe it’s safe to give it a name?
I wonder if he would mind if I chose his.
In the end, I still won.
But that was because he was distracted by a pretty waitress, as he so plainly defended himself, but instead of battling it out again, he just shrugged and allowed me to bask in the victory, trying to hide his widening grin.
“Fine,” he conceded, crossing his arms together. “You win.”
“What do I get?” I asked in return, a gleeful smile.
“The… best-friend-for-the-month award. I’ll win that next time, I swear.”
I only raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“What? I’m not lying. I won’t lose to you next time.” Then he scooted closer, his padded seat making dull scraping sounds against the wooden floor, and before I knew it, he had an arm wrapped comfortably around my shoulders.
I glanced sideways at him.
“Stop smiling or I’ll tie my nose band around your face.”
tbc..