One Cup of Coffee~
So.. a couple of days ago.. I felt like.. I wanted to write.
Should I be sacrificed, completely butchered if I don't continue this?
Title: Coffee is a Love Drug
Characters: Reita x Saga (the GazettE; Alice Nine)
Summary: Two musicians. Hot, steaming, coffee. What more could you ask for?
Rating: Completely safe. For now.
Coffee is a Love Drug
Day 1
It started out innocently enough. Nothing too fantastic, nothing magical like people presumed love-at-first-sight would be (because it wasn’t), nothing like never knowing about that old coffee shop where boy meets girl and falls in love. But it wasn’t that plain a story for me either. And I’ve fallen quite harder than anyone’s ever did - in a mall, in a bar, in a studio, even in the most cliché of locations - a coffee shop.
It wasn’t even an old coffee shop. It was newly built, with high ceilings and modern-made renaissance-design chandeliers and large, velvet sofa chairs, and low darkly-painted coffee tables. The brilliant wallpaper proudly pretended to be expensive, cherry hardwood, but I tried knocking on it and learned the hard way that it was made of concrete.
In short, it was a new coffee shop pretending to be an old coffee shop. Even the pastries and the coffee smelled old and spoke of traditional styles, but they were obviously freshly-baked and freshly-roasted. Hell, they even boasted of some of their coffee beans coming straight out from European and Asian fields and into their coffee mugs.
But, as cliché as it seemed to be, in the midst of old asphalt buildings standing among blue-glass, darkly-tinted modern skyscrapers, this one-storey haven seemed to beckon to me, and I gave in. It was a rainy day, and our leader called off our practice session at 5 o’ clock on the dot, and I figured I’d have a tiny cup, before I wash it away with some alcohol, if it proved to be a wrong decision.
Coffee is love.
It was their tagline. And since it was only their first week, my cup of freshly-made espresso came with a little heart-shaped coffee bun. I snorted when I was handed the tray, but I actually meant to smile. It was a nice thing, actually, to give out free food and here was this evil customer trying to spoil their good intention. I didn’t turn back to apologize or anything, and instead, settled on a good spot which was near the door for easy getaway, but hidden enough from view of most of the customers. I like my privacy. By an entire mile, actually. But when the nose band is off, I’m an entirely different person.
Or so they say. But I do notice that I laugh and speak louder behind the mask than I really do.
And since I was wearing Reita’s clothes but without his nose band, I was Akira. And I was perfectly content in my chair, opposite a vacant, but similarly sweet chair, and my cup of coffee blowing off its tiny clouds. Maybe others would think - what am I doing here, merely staring into space as I waited for my drink to cool off? But I was observing the place. There was an old couple to my far right, talking merrily about their day, probably. And then, a group of teenagers in front of me, although they were discreet when they talked and one was reading something off a book - coffee and poetry made a rather good mix. A couple of ladies were chattering behind me, although I didn’t bother to turn around and take a good look.
I could hear the soft drizzle of rain from my spot because I was near the door, and a few minutes into the drizzle, the rain suddenly turned into a downpour, and maybe because there was barely anywhere to seek shelter, a bunch of people came into the new coffee shop, and I could hear their wet shoes dripping wet on the newly polished floor. The door swung a few more times, and to my surprise, there was suddenly a mob inside the place. And I didn’t want to stay there anymore.
All of a sudden, the calm that boasted of this place was torn apart, and I found myself sipping my coffee as quickly as its heat dissipated, just so I could leave this ransacked newly-found haven of mine.
And then, he arrived, brown leather shoes shuffling forwards until I could see his face and drenched hair, and it was this scene, as I could see from my coffee cup, that marked the memory of our meeting, while my lips were still barely leaving the rim of my cup, the warm, sweet drink still slowly marking its path down my throat.
I guess that’s how I always associated him with the warmth. The kind that soothes, the kind that suddenly takes the irritation away and reminds you why you entered a coffee shop in the first place, or why you suddenly forgot why you wanted to bail out.
tbc, maybe~ (・_・;)
Should I be sacrificed, completely butchered if I don't continue this?
Title: Coffee is a Love Drug
Characters: Reita x Saga (the GazettE; Alice Nine)
Summary: Two musicians. Hot, steaming, coffee. What more could you ask for?
Rating: Completely safe. For now.
Coffee is a Love Drug
Day 1
It started out innocently enough. Nothing too fantastic, nothing magical like people presumed love-at-first-sight would be (because it wasn’t), nothing like never knowing about that old coffee shop where boy meets girl and falls in love. But it wasn’t that plain a story for me either. And I’ve fallen quite harder than anyone’s ever did - in a mall, in a bar, in a studio, even in the most cliché of locations - a coffee shop.
It wasn’t even an old coffee shop. It was newly built, with high ceilings and modern-made renaissance-design chandeliers and large, velvet sofa chairs, and low darkly-painted coffee tables. The brilliant wallpaper proudly pretended to be expensive, cherry hardwood, but I tried knocking on it and learned the hard way that it was made of concrete.
In short, it was a new coffee shop pretending to be an old coffee shop. Even the pastries and the coffee smelled old and spoke of traditional styles, but they were obviously freshly-baked and freshly-roasted. Hell, they even boasted of some of their coffee beans coming straight out from European and Asian fields and into their coffee mugs.
But, as cliché as it seemed to be, in the midst of old asphalt buildings standing among blue-glass, darkly-tinted modern skyscrapers, this one-storey haven seemed to beckon to me, and I gave in. It was a rainy day, and our leader called off our practice session at 5 o’ clock on the dot, and I figured I’d have a tiny cup, before I wash it away with some alcohol, if it proved to be a wrong decision.
Coffee is love.
It was their tagline. And since it was only their first week, my cup of freshly-made espresso came with a little heart-shaped coffee bun. I snorted when I was handed the tray, but I actually meant to smile. It was a nice thing, actually, to give out free food and here was this evil customer trying to spoil their good intention. I didn’t turn back to apologize or anything, and instead, settled on a good spot which was near the door for easy getaway, but hidden enough from view of most of the customers. I like my privacy. By an entire mile, actually. But when the nose band is off, I’m an entirely different person.
Or so they say. But I do notice that I laugh and speak louder behind the mask than I really do.
And since I was wearing Reita’s clothes but without his nose band, I was Akira. And I was perfectly content in my chair, opposite a vacant, but similarly sweet chair, and my cup of coffee blowing off its tiny clouds. Maybe others would think - what am I doing here, merely staring into space as I waited for my drink to cool off? But I was observing the place. There was an old couple to my far right, talking merrily about their day, probably. And then, a group of teenagers in front of me, although they were discreet when they talked and one was reading something off a book - coffee and poetry made a rather good mix. A couple of ladies were chattering behind me, although I didn’t bother to turn around and take a good look.
I could hear the soft drizzle of rain from my spot because I was near the door, and a few minutes into the drizzle, the rain suddenly turned into a downpour, and maybe because there was barely anywhere to seek shelter, a bunch of people came into the new coffee shop, and I could hear their wet shoes dripping wet on the newly polished floor. The door swung a few more times, and to my surprise, there was suddenly a mob inside the place. And I didn’t want to stay there anymore.
All of a sudden, the calm that boasted of this place was torn apart, and I found myself sipping my coffee as quickly as its heat dissipated, just so I could leave this ransacked newly-found haven of mine.
And then, he arrived, brown leather shoes shuffling forwards until I could see his face and drenched hair, and it was this scene, as I could see from my coffee cup, that marked the memory of our meeting, while my lips were still barely leaving the rim of my cup, the warm, sweet drink still slowly marking its path down my throat.
I guess that’s how I always associated him with the warmth. The kind that soothes, the kind that suddenly takes the irritation away and reminds you why you entered a coffee shop in the first place, or why you suddenly forgot why you wanted to bail out.
tbc, maybe~ (・_・;)