A/N: I use "brunet" as a synonym for "black haired" bc it's too awkward to write it like that every time.
Chapter Two: Coffee Grounds
Nagisa awoke on his couch in front of his ashy fireplace, the lonesome grey of the morning dripping in through closed curtains. Tick-tock was the beat of the clock and drip-drop was rain's rhythm on his panes as the far away sun rolled into the sky. He was tangled in a throw rug. A photo album lay on his lap and a wine glass with its bottle sat on his coffee table. The book was open to pictures of his father and family. The wine bottle was empty. Nagisa sighed; he truly had been lonely that night.
He shook out his hair - damn, his head hurt - and slipped off the couch, refusing to think on it any longer, though his heart felt otherwise. Well, Nagisa successfully distracted himself with temporary outrage when he saw the clock on his microwave which read 6:04 AM.
"Of all the days I wake up on my own, and it's six in the morning," he groaned as he shuffled off the carpet and onto the kitchen floor. His naked feet left odd pattering sounds and had to peel themselves off of the linoleum. Absently, he wondered how long it'd been since he mopped as he opened the fridge. "Let's see..." he mumbled, scanning the shelves. He sighed and settled on orange juice, noting that half the things he had were expired or well on their way. He pulled out the butter as well, then shut the fridge and popped some bread in the toaster. Just a glass for his juice and some ibuprofen to top it all off!
He downed the last of his orange juice and took a couple pills to rid him of his hangover. His toast would be a while yet; in the meantime, he chose an outfit. It took some digging and pulling and tossing his sheets, but he found a v-neck emerald sweater made of a lovely cashmere, a white button-down, his navy coat from the previous day, and after some debate, went for a semi-formal dark wash skinny jean. Casual Friday, right?
When he heard the toast pop, he left everything laying on his bed and buttered it up. He leaned against his counter and gazed out of his kitchen window at his neighborhood outside. Little tears fell upon the glass and though the sky gradually lightened, the day promised to be dark. He munched his toast thoughtfully and allowed his cheer to slip with the running water on his window and regret leaked into his heart. He really wished he weren't so stupid. He could've asked that guy for a name, a number, anything! How could he just forget? As far as dressing went, he supposed the man at the coffee shop could do better, but that didn't really matter. He'd been nice to Nagisa. He'd been so earnest. He swallowed his little pains with the last of the tasteless toast. He'd complain about it to Gou later.
When he finished dressing himself, he trotted off to the bathroom and gave a start when he saw his appearance. His hangover hadn't been that bad, but he certainly looked like he'd been totally trashed last night. "Classy, Hazuki," he muttered to himself, leaning into the mirror and pulling at his cheeks to assess the damage. Brown streaks ran down either side of his face from where his eyeliner and mascara had run and his foundation had given him a couple pimples near his jaw. He whined a little and grabbed a facial towel to wipe everything away and begin anew. He laid off the foundation for today; his skin needed a breather and yesterday had been a special occasion anyhow. Instead, he just used a matte brown palette for his eyes and gave himself two thin lines for liner. He only gave his top lashes mascara today.
Nagisa nodded to himself in the mirror and checked his appearance. His makeup was subtle enough that it barely looked present. Despite his manner of sleep, he felt that if there was a goddess of good-looking, she'd blessed Nagisa with the delicacy of a butterfly's wing today. He fished through a couple of his drawers and snatched an elegant pair of gold earrings that stretched halfway to his collarbone. He hesitated in choosing a necklace; on one hand, he had an almost chunky locket that matched the earrings perfectly, but on the other was a simple slightly tarnished herringbone chain. It was real gold and had been a gift from his father.
Now, as Nagisa was in charge of the accessories column, he'd promised himself that he'd set a good example for everyone around and have the most stylish, up-to-date jewelry. As over-the-top was in style at the moment, that meant that he should choose the youthfully charming locket, oughtn't he? Yet still, he sighed and picked up the little tarnished chain. He could feel warmth at the clasp still, after so many years, where his father first fastened it around his neck. Nagisa checked his reflection; the simplicity was becoming of him, he decided.
When he peeped out of the bathroom and checked the time, he was pleasantly surprised to find it was 7:30. It seemed there was no need to race the clock today, he remarked to himself, grinning as he grabbed his coat and slipped on some knee high, dark brown boots. They were one of his favorites, what with their lighter border at the top - the equestrian style was in, after all.
Now in considerably higher spirits, Nagisa practically skipped through the rain and down the couple blocks until he found his bus stop. When it arrived, he paid his daily fare and found a seat in the back, as per his usual routine.
Well after the bus had pulled into the city and had begun working its way through morning traffic, Nagisa found himself looking out the wet window, searching the tall city for a coffee shop tucked within its nooks and crannies. He checked his phone - if he stopped early, he'd have enough time to walk to work the rest of the way, assuming he went quickly and the line was short. Perhaps it was too much to hope that the stranger would be back, looking for him, confessing that he'd felt a connection, and inviting him out for a romantic evening at an expensive restaurant... and in a moment, Nagisa fell for a fantasy, barely ringing the bell in time to signal a stop when he caught sight of the little shack. He jumped off of the red bus and swaggered into the shop - the shop that was now quite busy and had a lengthy line that did not, in fact, hold the tall, handsome stranger. The blond felt a twinge of disappointment. If fate didn't dictate that they meet again, then it probably wasn't meant to be anyhow. Nonetheless, he shot a quick text to Gou and asked her if she wanted anything. It couldn't hurt to grab some coffee and wait around to see if he showed up. Nagisa snorted - at this point, he really was desperate.
The brunet man never did show up. Even after the five minute wait to order and the ten minute wait to collect his non-fat hazelnut espresso and Gou's two-shot Americano, he still wasn't there. Nagisa's trudge to his building, up the elevator, and onto the seventh floor were dejected and he didn't greet his coworker with his usual smile when he handed her the coffee.
"Oh, thanks," the redhead sighed, taking the cup gratefully. "I swear, you have like, a sixth sense when it comes to the days I don't have time to make coffee - oh, and here's the crossword in return." By the time she wasn't interrupted and had taken a sip of her drink, she worked out that something wasn't right. Nagisa nudged a pencil up and down over the crossword puzzle with his fingers, watching it roll back and forth across his desk, a frown having worked its way between his brows. "Well all right, then," Gou continued, "you look like a kicked puppy. What's up?" Nagisa heaved a melodramatic sigh.
"Oh, not much. There was just this cute guy I ran into the other day and I was hoping to see him again and I didn't. And I have a hell of a hangover."
"Just what did you do with this cute guy?" Gou snickered. The blond rolled his eyes.
"A crossword puzzle at a coffee shop. I just drank too much wine when I got home."
"Don't we all?"
"Charming." They shared a laugh and swiveled back to their computers.
"Nagisa!" called a woman's voice from down the hall. Both he and Gou poked their heads up and caught sight of their boss leaning out from her office. "Come over here a second!" she beckoned. The partners shared a nervous glance which carried a single thought - Nagisa really should have stayed until the end of his shift.
Nagisa tossed his coat over his chair and smoothed down his sweater. Maybe he should have worn the bigger necklace after all. He recalled the locket remorsefully, as it was safely tucked away in his drawer.
"What can I do for you, Ms. Amakata?" he asked politely, shutting the door softly behind him. He wasn't really sure why - the office reminded him of an ice cube in the far corner of the level, as it was all glass and always blasted cold air.
"Hear you left early yesterday," she began, leafing through some papers nonchalantly. Nagisa stiffened - he was so getting fired, or demoted if he was lucky. She glanced up at him and shook her head. "For God's sake, relax, I don't care. I called you in for a favor. In about an hour, there's a meeting going on with with Japanese executives." Nagisa nodded. Elite had been based primarily in Harajuku in the 80's, and featured some of its wilder street fashions. Over the years, its operations expanded to focus on national haute couture, and had only recently spread overseas. "Since you just got a promotion, I haven't had time to find a new assistant. Mind serving coffee and passing files out? It'd be a big help."
"Um - sure," he affirmed, not wanting to say no. She was giving him a sweet look that told him she'd hold it against him if he refused. He briefly wondered how her fiance found it attractive.
"Thanks," she replied, grabbing a formidable stack of manila folders filled with papers and handing them to Nagisa. "Now if you'd just take these and sort through them - remember, you have an hour. Get Gou to help you, she doesn't have anything pressing to do." And so, arms laden with paperwork, Nagisa scampered back to his desk.
"Wow, how much work do you have to do when you get fired?" Gou teased, knowing fully that he'd be in tears if anything really bad had happened.
"Not much when I have you for help," Nagisa retorted easily, balancing the stack on low half-wall between their desks. "We've got, like, an hour to sort through all these. Looks like this is the schedule." He picked up a paper separate from the rest and scanned it through. The Tokyo executives were coming to discuss London's need for a green and sustainable business. "I'm a little pissed," Nagisa confessed, leaning closer to Gou. "I mean, I already got the promotion, right? Shouldn't she have a new assistant by now? Why do I have to deal with all this?"
"Hey," Gou replied, "we're in this one together. Let's get started," she sighed, saving a draft and shutting her laptop.
They had only finished about two-thirds of their work when the hour was up. Right on the dot, a brisk bundle of men in astoundingly dull suits marched in the office, not quite going two-by-two. Their voices were a busybody's hum, their singular mind, superior and hive-like. Nagisa felt his lip curl at the sight of them. They made a beeline for the meeting room, causing a whine to bubble up in his throat.
"Ugh, they're here - how far have we gotten?" Gou, long since having transferred herself and the folders to the floor, peeked up from her lake of papers with prey's panic in her dark eyes.
"We're only two-thirds through!" She glanced over her shoulder and Nagisa followed her line of sight. These men would not be forgiving of tardiness and therefore neither would be their boss.
Ms. Amakata was now hustling over to the boardroom. She caught his eye and furiously tapped at her watch as though it were necessary to point out that they'd run out of time. Her eyes pleaded as if to say 'do something', so the blond popped up and did what he'd done every day for the three years he'd worked as her assistant: he ran to the break-room and made coffee.
"Let's see," he muttered to himself, scanning through the grounds. They had a small variety; a lovely dark roast someone had brought from a trip to Spain, a light cinnamon roast from a company most of the office workers - Nagisa included - positively adored, and a handful of pungent medium roasts. There were three coffee makers in the break-room and a large stack of paper cups someone had thought to bring in from the cafeteria. He poured what was left in each coffee pot into the cups, giving him about six cups, placed them on a tray, and hurried to meeting, faking a gentle smile as he pushed the door open.
The other men glanced at him, summed up a quick judgement, and proceeded to focus on their work. Whether or not they'd mistaken him for a woman, he was clearly beneath their notice, like mud in the crack of a sidewalk. A receptionist to fetch coffee and papers and look confused when the copier got jammed. Nagisa barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes at them - thank God this was the last time he'd ever have to work as an assistant.
He worked his way around the table, softly murmuring, "May I interest you in some coffee?" only occasionally receiving a 'yes', 'no', or 'what roast?', followed by a 'no'. They didn't bother with pleasantries. His smile fast faded and his sunrise eyes faded to a dawn-grey mask. For such bigshots, Nagisa thought, they sure were disrespectful.
"May I interest you in some coffee?" he repeated tiredly, glancing through a crack in the meeting room's door at Gou, who was frantically assembling the last of the folders.
"Yes please," answered a voice, low and polite, and not unlike honeydew on Nagisa's ears, as they'd been clogged by the sludge of rude behavior. It brought back the tickle of rain on his forehead, coffee grounds mixing with a storm, and music obscured by the sound of machinery tucked by a blue and orange street corner. He glanced down. The man glanced up. Their eyes met halfway.
"Oh! Um," he began, after a bit too much time had passed between them, "we have a light cinnamon roast, a dark roast from Spain, and Americano brewed right now." The brunet's cheeks had gone slightly pink - no doubt he recalled their evening together as well.
"The dark roast sounds nice," he softly said to Nagisa. The blond quickly obliged, his cloudy skin now lined with a rosy glow like sun over the rolling fog. In the corner of his eye, he caught Gou waving energetically to him. He placed the coffee down by the man, hurried his way around the others, and collected the folders from his friend, taking care to set one aside so that he could scrawl his cell number on the first page. When he passed them out, he made sure that he caught the eye of the handsome stranger and pantomimed opening the folder before slipping out with a satisfied smile.
Gou was leaning back in her desk chair when Nagisa rejoined her.
"You're looking considerably cheerful for someone that had to go around serving coffee to a bunch of arses," she commented in an offhand manner. The blond waved off his previous irritation with his boss and slid into his chair.
"So get this," he addressed her eagerly, "that guy I met the other day? The one I was bummed about not finding? So he was in there and I wrote down my number for him." The redhead raised her eyebrows and her lips bent upwards in a smile.
"No way!" she exclaimed, leaning into her friend. "So, what does he look like? Like, sexy hot as a pepper, cute as a button, or like, storybook handsome?" Nagisa frowned - all of those sounded ideal in their own way, but if he were being honest with himself, the man was none of them. He was certainly adorable in an off-beat, nerdy way, and he had the sex-appeal of a serious man, both of which combined gave him an odd form of handsome.
"Some mix of the three. He's really tall, too, with like, that kind of black hair that's almost blue and like... blue-ish eyes, I guess?" Gou gave an excited jump.
"That's like, perfect!" Nagisa grinned like he was sharing a secret and opened his laptop to begin revising the draft he'd finished yesterday.
"He's totally gonna text me," the blonde enthused. He was absolutely of certain of that. It was funny, however, that the things of which he was most certain almost never came to pass.