Sorry that this took so long! I wasn't sure how I wanted to write the scene where they met, like always all the rights to their proper people and enjoy!
Mathew sighed and leaned back in his chair. He had been working on this paper for nearly two hours and he hadn't made any progress that couldn't have been found and rewritten off of Wikipedia. Yawning, Mathew stood and grabbed his jacket. Deciding that a mid-night coffee trip might help him shake off his midnight writing funk.
Walking across the park grounds, Mathew took a deep breath of the fresh air and paused in the clearing on the way to the coffee shop just down the road. After over a year of living in this part of town, he should've been accustomed to the pitch-black nights, but it was difficult to be comfortable when it felt like someone could attack you at any moment. The only thing that kept him from turning around and settling back into his well-lit apartment with a blanket and his laptop was the promise of fresh coffee.
He began walking again, only a quarter of the way through the park that stretched between his dwellings and the Starbucks when he heard the footsteps. The fall of the boots (Mathew assumed because he had never heard sneakers that could make that much noise) against the downtrodden path were as loud as his own heart beating in his ears. Resisting the urge to run, Mathew calmly adjusted the speed he walked with, focusing on the neon sign advertising the coffee shop just ahead of him.
The footsteps persisted.
Taking another deep breath, Mathew began to run through everything he could remember about self-defense.
Unfortunately, that wasn't much.
If he had his hockey stick with him, the person behind Mathew wouldn't have stood a chance, but without it the Canadian didn't have anything to defend himself with, most of his defenses relying on an object to put the force behind.
He was half way through the park when he heard the footsteps pick up speed again, the few leaves that had started to fall early crunching underneath their feet. Not risking turning around to see who it was, Mathew briefly considered making a dash for the coffee shop, already knowing he wouldn't make it.
"HEY!" Mathew turned to the left to see a mop of silver hair dashing toward him. Confused for a second, Mathew briefly looked around, seeing only himself in the small bit of light that had reached out into the park, whoever was behind him was still hidden in the dark.
"Hi?" Mathew waved at the boy as he neared.
"Hey! You forgot your keys at the apartment." The boy stuck his hands in his pockets.
"I'm sorry bu-" the boy, who Mathew could see had skin paler than paper, held a finger to his lips before throwing a casual glance behind Matt. Nodding slowly, Mathew caught on to what the stranger was doing. "But I'll be more careful next time."
"Okay, you heading home?" Distracted momentarily by the strange accent, it took Mathew a few seconds to process what he had said.
"Um, no. Just headed to the Starbucks." Pointing across the street, Mathew glanced behind him nervously.
"I was headed there myself, have to finish that paper for English, right?" Mathew nodded slowly before he felt his hand being taken by someone else's and dragged forward.
"Just go with it, the guy's less likely to attack you if you're with someone." The whisper left the air to fog up in front of his companion's face, obscuring any details Mathew might have learned about him.
Enchanted by this strange figure beside him, Mathew took a moment to look him over for signs of a prank-a whoopee cushion, a water balloon, something. But the man, as far as he could tell, was simply being nice.
As they reached the light of the coffee shop, Mathew could vaguely make out a hooded figure about twenty feet away. Sighing in relief, he entered the store with- who was it that was holding his hand again? Mathew looked at the person in front of him again now that they had proper lighting.
He was right about the skin color, so pale he could almost see through it, and the hair was silver, reflecting any and all light that hit it. However he now was able to notice the black t-shirt and ripped up black jeans that clung to the skin. Small chains (just long enough to form a single loop but not enough to hit against themselves) were located on each side. He had on a necklace with a large, almost gothic styled, cross on it, and when he turned his eyes were startlingly red.
"Sorry, what?" It took a few seconds for Matt to realize the man in front of him had asked him something.
"I asked what you wanted to drink." Blinking a few times Matt ordered his drink and looked out the front windows again.
"I don't think that he's gonna come after you again tonight, I sure as hell wouldn't if I saw someone as awesome as me guarding you." Chuckling, Mathew grabbed his drink and it wasn't until he went to go sit down that he realized he was still holding the stranger's hand. Blushing, he let go and went to sit down, his companion following shortly behind him.
"My name's Gilbert, what's yours Birdie?" Mathew blinked.
"Birdie? Where'd you get that from?" Gilbert gestured at his chest and Mathew blushed. He hadn't realized that he was still wearing t-shirt that his twin had bought him. The white t-shirt had an eagle on it, holding an American flag between its talons. They had found it while the two went shopping for college and when April fools day rolled around Mathew found it wrapped up in a box on the foot of his bed. "It was present." He muttered before taking a sip of his coffee. The boy across from him laughed, a warm and comforting sound on a chilled night.
"It's cool, in fact I love the sparkles on the eyes." Mathew sunk microscopically in his seat and heard Gilbert laugh again.
"It's better than your wannabe rock star outfit." He challenged and the laughing stopped.
"I am a rock star, I'm drummer in a band that just got back from our tour."
"Sure." Gilbert placed a hand on his chest, his skin looking even paler against the dark background.
"You disbelief wounds me Birdie." Mathew snorted before taking another sip of his drink.
"Stop calling me birdie, my name's Mathew." For a moment, a flash of recognition crossed the man's face but it was gone before Mathew could be sure it was there.
"Well then Mathew, let's finish our drinks and then he awesome me will walk you home to make sure that guy doesn't come back." Laughing at his companion's self-proclaimed awesomeness, Mathew took a drink and sat up straighter in his chair.
Mathew hoped that he would never finish his drink, this guy was much more entertaining than any essay he had ever been assigned.
