A/N: Written for the prompt 'coffeepot'. Betaed by the awesome Fanuilos.
Spoilers: None.
Characters: Risa Harada and Satoshi Hiwatari, mention of Riku Harada.
Disclaimer: Yukiru-sensei owns the manga, the characters, and all the rights. I just like to play with the characters.
The steady drip of the coffee mingled with the gurgling of the percolator, filling the dim kitchen with a steady, comforting hum and the rich smell of roasted coffee beans.
Risa swung the cabinet door open and rose to the balls of her feet, stretching to reach the top shelf and the coffee mugs that sat upon it. Her fingers closed around a mug and as she set it on the counter, she glanced over at her schoolmate.
He sat on a barstool, his crossed arms resting on the cold granite countertop of the kitchen island. His chin propped on his forearm, he stared into the coffeepot sitting inches from his face. Intense concentration drew his brows together and Risa idly wondered what it was about the brewing coffee he found so enthralling.
She turned away. When she had inquired after his health earlier that day, he had declared he was fine, but the dark circles under his eyes told her otherwise. Even if he would not admit it to himself, he was sick. She sighed and stuck out her tongue. He could be annoying, that boy. If idiots did not catch colds, it stood to reason that geniuses did. Even if they refused to acknowledge it.
Reaching up into a cabinet for a second mug, she glanced at him again. His gaze was on the coffeemaker, but his thoughts were probably miles away, solving some complex problem that had baffled intellectuals for centuries. Either that, or he had fallen asleep with his eyes open, and she found it hard to believe that Hiwatari-kun would ever let himself do that.
Risa plunked the pair of mugs down on the island. "Really, Hiwatari-kun, you're sick. I can tell. You're just not your usual self." She peeked in the sugar bowl and, finding it empty, strode to the pantry and rummaged about. "You should take better care of yourself. Get some rest tonight, 'kay? I'll finish up our project this evening; you don't have to worry about it." Emerging, she began to refill the sugar bowl. "If I need any help, I'll ask Riku. You should go home and rest." She looked up, waiting for his reply, and then tacked on, "But not until you've finished your coffee."
He made no response; not even an eyelash flickered to show he heard her.
Risa made a face. "Are you even listening to me?" Her hands went to her hips. "You're not, are you?" Her lips pursed and she muttered under her breath, "Stupid genius."
Hiwatari-kun showed no sign of life.
Throwing caution to the wind, Risa burst into a random song, flinging her arms about dramatically.
Still no response from her blue-haired classmate.
She huffed a sigh and let her arms fall to her side. He was completely zoned out; it was as though he was not in the room. "Or even the same universe," she grumbled. She stalked to the side of the island opposite him and mimicked his posture. Arms crossed at exactly the same angle, chin resting in the same place, eyes staring deep into the coffeepot.
After a few seconds, her gaze flickered from the trickling coffee to Hiwatari-kun. Though veiled by the curved sides of the coffeepot and his own glasses, the vibrant blue of his eyes was nearly startling. But, Risa saw, they were distant: unfocused, inattentive. It was odd seeing eyes normally alert and penetrating, so far and vague. Dreamy, she thought, and then laughed to herself. Had she not heard one of the girls in their class describe his eyes as such just that morning? Though she knew the girl had not meant it in the same way, Risa found the wordplay amusing. Still, how could anybody tell what his eyes were like when they were always hidden behind glasses?
His eyes were– She turned her concentration to the stream of coffee, feeling almost confused. Why in the world was she thinking about his eyes?
"Caramel," he mumbled. "Coffee and caramel."
Startled, she looked past the dripping coffee and found that the very eyes she had been thinking about were now focused, in all their intensity, on hers. Eyes widening, she froze.
"Or cinnamon," he amended.
He had her full attention now.
"They're like chocolate laced with cinnamon."
What was he talking about? Could he– No. He could not be talking about her? About her eyes? She swallowed and pushed the thought from her head. That was impossible. Completely impossible. Mustering a semblance of nonchalance, she spoke up. "What did you say, Hiwatari-kun?"
He sat up, blinking as though rising from a stupor. "I'm sorry; did you say something, Harada-san?"
Had he been sleep-talking? Had he really been asleep with his eyes open? Fighting rising stupefaction, Risa repeated, "What did you say, just before now?"
His head tipping sideways a fraction, he looked at her quizzically. "I am afraid I do not follow you. Did I say something?"
Her eyebrows rose even higher before she composed herself and shook her head. "Never mind, Hiwatari-kun. I probably imagined it."
She was rewarded with a slightly bewildered expression and began to wonder if Hiwatari-kun was the only one who was sick. Hiwatari-kun, bewildered? She must be delirious.
"Never mind," she repeated, looking around for something normal, unable to disconcert her. "I think the coffee is ready."