Ten Songs for Deathberry
Song#2: Caffeine – Yoseob (B2ST)
World: AU
Rating: T (language, mild sexual references…and I sound like that TV rating that you hear before you watch a show, so I'm shutting up now.)
Summary: A cliché coffee shop romance, where two people bond over coffee…and I suck at summaries. But it's a romantic story (obviously) with my OTP, so…
Disclaimer: refer to previous chapter
A/N: This is going to be in a different format than the previous songfic, but whatever. I do whatever I want. Ha ha ha. My sister has also forced me to listen to Kpop for a week, so now I'm…desensitized to it. And I think it's not normal to link every single romantic song to something IchiRuki, right? Wow. I would ask for help to get rid of this obsession, but why would I? Besides, I've been watching Bleach 342 a lot…and just when I thought I wouldn't cry about it again…*sigh* ANYWAY, I'll stop freaking y'all out. If anyone wants to suggest a song, I'll see if I can do something about it (sorry to those who would request something and find that their song wasn't included; I'm limiting the songfics to 10 right now, but I'm still going to try and make one-shots!). So, reviews and constructive criticism is widely appreciated, and comments feed my life force. They keep my fingers typing.
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The first time they met, he pushed his way to the front of the line. She had watched from the sidelines, wondering why such a brash man would be in such a hurry. He had been gesturing wildly, but unlike the rest who cast him a passing glance and knew better than to stare, her gaze lingered on him just a little longer. His hair was eye-catching, of course, and this was probably what the others noticed. Maybe it was because his delinquent-coloured hair contradicted the suit that he wore. But she didn't notice that; she only noticed his urgency, and the annoying way some kind of weird passionate irritation flared in his warm, chocolate eyes. It was his expression that annoyed her.
As if someone had tapped his shoulder, he turned his head as soon as he grabbed the coffee from the counter from a frightened barista.
Their eyes met.
Call it fate, or a simple gut feeling. The world didn't disappear around them – that would have been too much of a blessing – but suddenly, they became acutely aware of each other.
He walked towards her, scowling, like he dared her to look away in intimidation or fear. She stood her ground and stupidly refused, meeting his eyes.
"What are you staring at?" he asked, unceremoniously landing his ass on the seat in front of her. A vein throbbed on her forehead. For a guy who looked…intriguing…he was undeniably rude.
"Nothing," she answered as calmly as she could, turning back to her coffee and the iPad in her hands.
He huffed. "Weirdo."
"That's like the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him, lazily flicking through her million emails that morning. She already felt a headache coming on, and to counter it, she took a sip of her latte. "Why are you still here?"
She heard him stand up and did nothing to stop him. Good riddance, she thought.
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It wasn't a week later until they met again.
"You again!" he exclaimed as he situated himself onto the chair opposite from her. "Do you always work so early in the morning?"
"What do you care?" she asked, finally settling down the iPad to give him a scathing glare. What was the point? He wasn't going to listen to her anyway. She'd already had more stress on shoulders than she could deal with, so she might as well tell him to fuck off. She swore her clients would rather have her dead than have her defend them, by the way they constantly asked about the progress of their cases. Did they not understand that she already had ten different murder cases on her hands? She wasn't incapable of dealing with all of them, of course; she would have been done faster if they all just shut up and let her work.
"I've seen you before," he answered with a smirk that only managed to get under her skin. "You were on TV, defending those guys."
"So?"
"That was pretty good of you, proving them to be innocent."
"It's my job. Don't tell me you're going to kill me for letting them have their innocence back. Are you another one of Aizen's thugs, come to intimidate me?"
He frowned, as if trying to figure her out. "You're paranoid."
She shrugged, and began to wonder why he wouldn't just go away. "Why are you here then?"
"I wanted to talk to you," came the relaxed reply from the man slouching on the chair before her. Oh, how easy it would be to just leave…but she couldn't. She didn't know why. Maybe it was because she wanted to just reach forward and strangle him.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why?"
"Okay, okay, it was a dare," he admitted, placing his coffee on the table and holding his bare hands up in the air. "My friends told me to talk to you...in exchange for two weeks' worth of coffee."
"So I'm only worth two weeks of coffee?" she scoffed, now offended. He was probably trying to flirt with her. She frowned; of course it wouldn't work. "I'm glad to see you think of me so highly."
"I don't," he answered, "but I don't think of you as someone so low, either. I can't judge now, can I? I don't even know you."
"You said you saw me on TV."
"That's true," he admitted, taking another sip before continuing. "But I don't…know you, you know?" He smiled – or at least, what she thought was a smile. He looked constipated, with the way the frown still had its traces on his face and the way the corners of his lips were turned up only slightly. She suppressed a laugh; she didn't even know if he was trying to make a silly face or not.
He got up, the remnants of the 'smile' disappearing altogether to be replaced with a relaxed expression. "I'll see you here tomorrow, lawyer."
"It's not lawyer. It's Kuchiki Rukia."
He smiled, properly this time, seeming genuinely amused. "Dr. Kurosaki Ichigo. You're still going to be here tomorrow, right?"
She shrugged, making it seem like she didn't care that he was obviously very smart or that she had ignored the ID on his chest before he introduced himself but finding that she was not capable of fully suppressing a small smile of her own. He gave that smile again, and finally, she laughed as he exited the coffee shop, the bell tinkling to signify his departure.
She wanted to see his real smile again.
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There was something different about her that set her apart from everyone else.
He noticed, on the first day that he saw her that she was the only one not staring at his hair or his suit. She probably didn't even notice the ID clipped on his jacket that allowed everyone to see that he was a true blue doctor. No, she looked at his eyes. He admired her courage, and at the same time, wondered if she was somehow a little demented. Normally, people would flinch at even the smallest look from him. But there she had been, not looking at anywhere but his eyes. He didn't know what was so fascinating about them; they looked normal, albeit a lighter shade of brown than most. It was like she didn't know that her big, doe-like eyes didn't swim with so much promise of brighter possibilities in their indigo depths.
It took him a week to get the courage to go back, and just as his friends predicted, she was in that same spot, drinking the same coffee. The only thing that seemed different about her were her clothes, and even then, her skirt and her suit were pressed and clean, not a single fleck of dirt or dust daring to even come near for fear of being eradicated. He had told her that he saw her on TV, which was partly true, except that he would have missed the coverage were it not for his fellow doctors dragging him in front of it and asking him if that was the girl that he met, the petite woman that plagued his thoughts.
Then, as the weeks progressed to months, he found that no matter how annoying it was being around her, she still held that quality. She was so full of life, and she didn't even seem to know it, because she killed that vibrant attitude every time she looked down on her iPad and started working. He annoyed her and called her a midget, despite it getting him a few kicks and punches, because her annoyance brought that expression back on her face. Their insults were baseless, but those built the foundations of their growing friendship. They said more than actual, rational words would.
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into!" I don't want to let you in, because you'll only be hurt. I want to protect you.
"Are you an idiot? What kind of friend would I be if I left you alone, huh?!" I'll stay by your side, no matter what you say.
"Heh…don't butt in, midget." Thank you. I couldn't ask for more.
"It's part of the job description." You're more than welcome.
So many things happened over those few weeks that it seemed like they've known each other for much longer. She waited for him to tell her about his mother. He waited for her to tell him about that man that she held so dear. They kept the smiles and the laughs and the conversations all to themselves, as if talking about those moments would make them go away.
It was for fear of losing each other…and this fear made them clutch each other tighter.
Their antagonised interactions became easier as their unspoken fears worsened. They told each other their insecurities and worries, and when words weren't enough, they exchanged coffees as a way of saying: "let me carry your burden for you". There was nothing awkward about it…at least she didn't seem to feel awkward about it. He was still anxious and embarrassed at the idea of indirectly kissing her.
On the plus side, he began to have an idea what her lips would taste like.
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It took another month before he gained the guts to ask her out. He already knew that she was a very busy woman, and honestly, so was he. But fate had actually dealt them a good hand when it allowed their schedules to…'magically' clear for the whole day they were together.
He learned even more about her, when he thought that he already knew all there was to know: she had never been to a carnival, let alone took a ride on a Ferris wheel. She had never been anywhere with any friends, because she had been home-schooled all the way to half of her high school years, and even then, she never really had any 'permanent' friends, even in college. She constantly tried to prove that growing up in a very business-oriented, politically-influential family didn't mean jack shit in her line of work, but people constantly doubted her, which pushed her to work even more.
He admired her – every single part of her – and found it to be so, so easy to be with her.
They kissed later, during an argument about cotton candy.
She tasted differently from what he expected: not like the double-cream mocha latte she got every morning without fail, but much like the strawberry-flavoured cotton candy that he bought her. Even then…she had her own way of surprising him. He didn't mind; if she didn't do that, then he had enough of a reason to worry about her. He was glad that she didn't slap him. He pulled away then and smiled. She had a way of doing the unexpected at the most precious moments.
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She didn't know the exact reason why she ended up in his arms most evenings and woke up to the smell of breakfast most mornings. There were many other reasons, and even more within those reasons, that she didn't know how she came to love him.
He annoyed her. He bothered her to no end. She found more satisfaction in hitting him than…
Her mind stuttered at the thought. Than what?
She liked talking to him. She liked the kisses that he gave – which ranged from caring to passionate and all the things in between. She definitely liked the way he was in bed. She liked his eyes and his hair and…
Everything.
"Yo," he greeted, standing in the doorway, breakfast in hand. She smiled; he always cooked for her, even though he knew perfectly well that she could prepare her own breakfast. "Hungry?"
She chuckled, and did not miss the small blush that graced his features.
"You know," he said with a smirk, "for a small woman, you sure do eat a lot. I'm not even sure why you're not fat yet –,"
And that's when she hit him.
Way to ruin the moment, Ichigo.
But they both knew that this type of attachment was going to get harder as their lives became busier, but that to stay together, they had to be equally committed. Not that they weren't already. They were merely waiting for what their friends said was the inevitable…and in turn, they wanted to be strong enough to fight against that, and to be strong enough to protect each other's hearts.
A/N: Hee hee…this one is much shorter than the last one, isn't it? (I think it's about half the size of Romeo and Cinderella, but that's only because the previous one was an idea that I had months ago while listening to the song…) I honestly did not know where this one-shot was going. I was going to write more, but I didn't find the right moment to write the stuff that I wanted to write. And I don't know why I chose the song 'Caffeine'…but whatever. Any requests? (Now I feel like a DJ…)
