PPG RRB: Little Does She Know...
So my own slowness scared me, and I practically forced myself to write this. The story can be thought of as any Puff or Ruff together, even though I DO reveal who they're supposed to be in the end. ...I think it's pretty obvious, anyway. *shrugs* Onwards and upwards; enjoy! I'll try to get more crap done! Oh and this might become more than a one-shot... Two-shot, three-shot, four-shot, five-shot... Heck, maybe even a mini series... Who knows!? Typed most of this from 12:00 am to something, took a break for a day, and then finished typing this at like around 11:35 pm somewhere... DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but potatoes, I'm afraid. But don't worry: ...they're CLASSY potatoes. *puts on shades* ...E'yup. /shot
The hot chocolate sat on the coffee table, just cooling off. Steam fluttered up into the air, almost invisible.
A hand stirred some marshmallows and cream into the brown liquid, the silent presence around said person demanding quietness.
Around him, however, it was bustling with activity. People talked as they drank coffees and ate, all laughing and smiling in the cozy little café.
Now, he was said to often over-anylaze things. And here he was, carefully tuning into each separate conversation and offering his own silent thoughts.
One lady was talking about how her new cat got stuck in a tree at least once a week.
He couldn't help but wonder why she couldn't take better care of said cat, who was apparently named "Flopsy".
Another man was talking about how his son had finally proposed to the girl of his dreams. He talked about how them "rough country folk" were trying to get along with the girl's "rich city folk family".
He wanted to ask why it had been so hard for the son. It was just a proposal, right? Do something romantic for that girl and she'll agree. If you've been dating her for quite awhile it'd work.
And all that talk about city folk and country folk made him frown. There was nothing wrong with either and it shouldn't be so hard to get along. It just made it so much more easy to place them in a stereotypical manner.
Some young man was talking to his two guy friends about this "hot chick called Melissa. She's got this nice brown hair".
...He hated men who judged a girl for her looks. "Sexy chicks" appreciate compliments, sure; but he had never seen any girl who actually returned feelings to a perverted bastard.
Just as he tuned into the conversation of a girl with short blond hair talking to another brown-haired girl with purple glasses who was writing a story, the door opened. Despite the noise, he quickly heard the bell above the door ring and he looked up out of curiosity.
A girl with wide eyes stood there awkwardly, trying to shift through the bustling crowds of people. His eyes trailed her and never left her as she walked into line and she waited patiently for her turn.
He slowly took a sip of his lonely hot chocolate, eyeing the new girl.
After she received her order, she slowly looked around but didn't seem to see any free tables. Some guy waved at her, calling her "sweet chick" and whistling.
...She ignored the guy.
Then her eyes landed him, who was still studying her. He quickly ducked down, focusing on his hot chocolate like it was the most interesting thing on earth as his face flushed.
He didn't notice the hot chocolate was burning his hands slightly.
She called his name, waving wildly.
He looked up and couldn't resist smiling, albeit weakly as he offered a half-hearted wave and a nod. He patted the seat across from him, openly inviting her to take a seat.
She smiled and walked over, a slight bounce in her step. She thanked him as she sat down, setting her tray on the table. She had a little cake and a mug of hot chocolate as well.
He just mumbled a "you're welcome" before commenting on how nice the cake looked.
She smiled brightly and asked if he wanted some.
He flushed, saying he wasn't sure it was a good idea, and how it was HER cake.
She simply replied that that was nonsense. It WAS her cake, and she could decide what she wanted to do with it. And she wanted to share it...with him.
His face flushed even redder—if possible—as he managed to mumble a thank you as she cut the cake.
She just smiled and said it was no problem, before passing him half of it.
Smiling a small smile, he took it and ate while listening to her speak.
Her family was doing well, and she'd found a job at a sweets shop for the time-being. Her grades were fine, and her father was proud.
He listened intently, focusing on small details and adding little comments as she talked. He also commented silently in his mind.
When she finished talking about their new snow-cone machine, she asked a question he dreaded to hear...:
"So how have you been doing?"
He just mumbled "fine".
She pressed on, and on, and on. "There must be something happening in your life," she protested.
He sighed before finally giving into her persistence, before telling her how he and his family were doing. His brothers were doing okay, one finding a job that paid quite a bit. The other was trying to keep up with school while borrowing cash, and he himself was looking for a job. He'd applied to work at this café, and he was waiting for the results. His "father" was having trouble scraping money together.
She commented and listened all the while, patiently hearing his tale about how one of his brother's loans became a shit-storm.
When he finally finished, he just looked down and mumbled a "that's all".
She sat up and said that "that wasn't 'that's all'! This is all really important!"
...Little did she know...
He dismissed her protest, pointing out how his life really didn't matter to her.
She claimed it did and that she wanted to help his family.
He just shook his head and told her not to be so nosy and to stay out of people's businesses. "It has nothing to do with you," was what he said. As soon as he looked up and saw her face, he instantly regretted saying that.
Her expression was upset, a mixture of sadness and anger, as well as tiredness. She threw down some cash and yelled, "Fine! If you don't want my help, then I won't help you!"
...If only she knew...
A few people stared and he flushed, staring at his lap.
She looked sad that he cared about his image so much.
He picked at loose stitches in his jeans, them suddenly becoming the most interesting thing on earth. He wouldn't necessarily say he was all that worried about his "image", but just more so worried he'd burst in front of her.
Still, he quickly learned how keeping silent wasn't a good thing either.
She turned and was just about to stomp off in both sadness, anger, and hurt, but somebody accidentally bumped into her.
They apologized in a mumble, quickly pushing past her.
She called, "Hey!" but they quickly disappeared in the throng of people.
She bumped into the table and caused her mug to fly through the air. He managed to catch his before it could slide down onto his pants.
She, however, wasn't so lucky.
The mug of hot chocolate spilled onto her clothes, and she let out a squeal as the hot liquid burned her legs.
He quickly leapt up and grabbed ice before telling her to apply them to her burn injuries. He suggested she go see a doctor later.
She just flushed and mumbled how "he was already a doctor"...for her, anyway.
He flushed and stared at her for a few moments. She managed to smile a small smile back.
He smiled back as well.
All of a sudden, she yelped and leapt a few steps back as the cold ice stung one of her more...sensitive burn areas.
"Sorry," he apologized with a flushing face.
She blushed as well, saying she was sorry instead...: for everything. Being nosy, bossy, loud, ruining his image, stubborn, brash...
He put a finger to her lips as she ranted on, suddenly silencing her. She looked up in surprise, her face pink.
He just smiled a small smile and leaned in, planting a kiss on her lips before leaning back. He smiled slightly. "Better...?"
She stared at him, her face red. Her bangs hid her eyes, and he suddenly wondered if the kiss had been such a good idea after all. He'd simply done it on impulse, after all.
Then she looked up and smiled as well, hugging him. She squeezed him, and he managed a laugh, albeit quietly.
"Get a room, you two!" someone hollered.
Embarrassed, the two drew apart.
The person sitting next to the "someone" smacked them on the head with a newspaper. He turned and smiled apologetically at the two blushing teens. "Do carry on," he said.
They flushed even redder and mumbled, "N-No thanks..."
Their faces grew even redder when they saw their siblings.
"...You set us up, didn't you...?"
One of his brothers nodded, smiling. Apparently they were the stranger who'd bumped into her...although they weren't expecting spilt coffee, burns, and arguments.
...Little did they know...
An awkward silence drifted down upon them and they simply sat there, not knowing what to say.
When a baby's crying broke the awkward silence, everyone turned around and returned to their normal activities...while glancing back at the scene, of course.
His face burning, he mumbled an apology about the kiss and snapping at him.
This time she put a finger to his lips, and she smiled. "It's okay. You forgive me, and I forgive you. I still want to help though...if you're willing to accept it," she added.
He paused, surprised, before smiling and nodding quietly. "Thank you," he whispered, taking her hand, "...Bubbles."
She smiled back. "No problem, Boomie." She started leaning in, but was caught by surprise when he pulled her closer to him. They embraced as they shared a kiss in that bustling café.
And there, at that time in that café, came words neither would forget for a long time...:
"...I love you."
So there you have it! Turns out it was the blues—although I bet that was obvious all along! :D Originally it was supposed to be Brick and Blossom, but a cute fic seemed much easier to write. So before I knew it, sarcastic, over-analyzer Brick became shy, over-analyzer Boomer! :D ...YAY! ...No one else is happy...? ...Oh, okay. *hangs head in shame* Oh and remember to review~! DO IT. IT'S NOT THAT HARD APQOLJOOKSIAKAKL. =w= I'll love you forever if you do. QwQ
