"Caffè Nero"
A shrill, piercing noise cut through the silence of the early morning. Dazed and puzzled, a scarlet-colored ball fell from the confining warmth of its bed, nearly sending the several pots designated for collecting water from the overhead leaky pipes scattering in all directions. The mass walloped onto the cold concrete floor, a tell-tale sign of a cheap, unfinished apartment. The unpleasant whining sound droned on in the background as the ball thrashed about, tangled within the sheets. As the ball, now clearly a quite disheveled fox, freed himself from his cotton aggressor, he made his way over to the source of the racket and the cause of his pre-dawn fiasco: the alarm clock.
After pounding the snooze button with unnecessary brutality, Nick read the time through tired eyes. 5 a.m. His shift at the precinct began at 6. He had an hour to shower, change into his uniform, and drink enough coffee to at least get him through the early rush to work. He knew better than anyone the amount of energy required to fight for enough space on the subway into downtown. It was a nightmare, especially for smaller mammals like himself.
Nick attempted to rub the exhaustion from his eyes to no avail. He hadn't slept a full night in months. He had practically lived off of coffee to keep him alert and focused enough to get his job done. Nothing more, nothing less. There was no above and beyond the call of duty for the former con-artist-turned-cop. The same could not be said, however, for his partner on the force: Judy Hopps.
As he turned the knobs of the shower and waited for the water to heat up to a suitable temperature, Nick cracked a faint smile at the mere thought of his bright-eyed partner. He owed the energetic bunny his life, and he would gladly lay it on the line for her if destiny ever called for it. Speaking of which, she would probably be at his apartment soon, pounding on the door and thumping her right foot impatiently. The fox had a supreme talent for being late to everything; something that drove the punctual rabbit wild. Nick preferred the term "regrettably delayed." Whenever he deployed that term to counter the bunny's anger at him, she would scold him, but not before cracking a smile of her own and shaking her head at her ridiculous partner. According to her: "officers of the law and the saviors of the city cannot afford to be late."
Nick stepped into the shower as his smile faltered. He had been enjoying his little session of reminiscence before he forgot one looming detail. She had been the reason he hadn't had a full-night's sleep in months. At first, he had blamed it on nerves or the "days of the academy coming back to haunt him." He had lied to himself and he knew it all too well. He simply hadn't slept the night he finally came to terms with it. Nicholas Wilde, the hardened con-artist and veteran of the streets had fallen for a bunny cop. He sat in denial for hours before coming to the conclusion that he would never let her know. Maybe on his deathbed, but that was an unpleasant scenario that he tried not to imagine.
Emerging from the shower amidst a cloud of steam, Nick clambered over to his cramped closet and fished around for his pressed uniform. He gently dressed himself, for joining the force and being an officer of the law was something he prided himself on. Not that he would ever let anyone that, of course. Despite sometimes being a big softy on the inside, Nick still preferred to keep up the suave, charming, and nonchalant exterior. After finishing of his uniform with the crown jewel, his badge, he ambled over to the pocket-sized kitchenette. He slid behind the counter, but not before smacking his head on some overhanging pots and pans. Rubbing his head, the fox silently cursed himself and his minuscule police salary. After finding that he was looking for, the fox re-emerged from behind the counter with the treasure clutched in his paws. His life-blood: coffee.
Nick dumped the coffee grounds in the machine and awaited the contraption to work its magic. As he lingered, his mind wandered. Wandered back to a specific mammal that was certainly almost to his doorstep. Again, the fox's smooth façade faltered once more, and his patience for the machine to spit out his first of many cups of the day was quickly wearing thin. This was the daily morning routine: wake up exhausted, try not to think about her, shower, try not to think about her, get dressed, try not to think about her, make coffee, try not to think about her. It was a struggle, one which he was losing more and more ground in everyday. Eventually, he gave in. He allowed his mind to wander to her. Those piercing violet eyes, the infectious personality, the beautiful smile, her laugh, and the way that she trusted him. Perhaps that was what he valued most: her trust. He would never betray her trust, never break her heart by leaving her. He was her best friend and she was his. If they were to remain friends and nothing more then so be it. He told himself that he would live a lifetime of agony if it meant that she could live in joy.
His heart strained as a sputtering noise shook him from his thoughts. He glanced down to gladly see the black liquid pouring into his awaiting thermos. At least something was going right this morning. Nick topped off his thermos and took a small sip. The coffee was black as night and strong enough to kick your teeth in. Black and bitter was the way it was meant to be consumed in the city. The hot beverage did nothing to ease the clenching of his heart. He was about to take another swig when a series of ferocious knocks and his door. The voice that he loved followed soon thereafter.
"Nick? You ready? We can still catch the next train if we hustle!" Came a cheery, yet muffled tone.
"Yeah," he gruffly replied. "I'm coming."
He sighed and swiped his keys from the counter, the ache in his heart still ever-present. This was going to be another long, caffeine-fueled day.