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 Posted: Sun Mar 27, 2016 8:00 pm
"There's nothing wrong with that," Chase said quietly, looking amused in a soft way. "You glow when you talk about it, it's cute." People were always brighter when they talked about something they were passionate about and Chase liked listening to Auguste talk even if it was about something as simple as a rainstorm.
He listened silently while the blue-eyed boy talked about his friends, Nadia and Lorne and then Colin. Something in him dropped at the hesitation Auguste displayed, the lack of definition outside of wonderful that'd been applied.
"They sound lovely." But he sounded disappointed. His instincts told him this Colin person was important in a way that Nadia and Lorne were not. Chase didn't care for the twisting in his stomach and his expression had shifted to something more stoic, his usual expression.
"Sometimes, the family you make is better than the family you were given." He believed that until he'd lost everything he considered family besides his mother.
But, he was building a new one, with Katrina and Regan. He had important people, just not the way Auguste had Colin. Chase shifted away again, moving to the other espresso machine, beginning to fiddle with parts, attention seemingly turned away from his visitor.
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2016 6:35 am
Auguste turned to look at Chase, his eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and pleasure, his cheeks heating. He looked down at his drink and said softly, "Thank you. Sometimes I think I...well, I suppose it can be a little strange, liking weather that much but..." He gave a shrug of his shoulder that caused the sweater to slide a little, a smile blossoming on his face. "You like what you like, right?"
The strange tone to Chase's voice was not missed, though Auguste could not quite place what emotion it was that wound itself around the words. His brows drew together, watching the shuttering off, the shifting of his body as Chase turned away; and Auguste felt an odd twisting of his stomach, a little stinging sensation that had nothing to do with his drink, or the topic of rainstorms.
He couldn't untangle it, and he wasn't even entirely sure that he wanted to.
"That's true," said Auguste softly, his eyes tracing the lines of Chase's shoulders from behind. "I don't...that is, I have no connections to my parents any longer, so I prefer to make new connections; to focus on the people I meet here."
His fingers wrapped more securely around the drink as Auguste added tentatively, quietly, "Like nice barista boys who make dancers drinks when they stop by after rehearsal."
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2016 7:44 am
The outer shell of the steam wand loosened in his hand and he set it on the grate so that he could clean the metal component of the wand, listening to Auguste talk even if he didn't look back at the man at his counter. "You like what you like," he echoed, eyes narrowing in both concentration and an emotion Chase couldn't place. He said the words, but didn't know what they meant for him.
He cleaned the blade he'd been using to scrape off the milk build up on a wet rag sitting beneath the machine and sighed subtly.
"Parent's aren't really family if you ask me," Chase commented, the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice when he thought of his father. He loved his mom, wholly and completely, but his father was an entirely different story. "Picking families work better because you get a say." You didn't pick who shared your blood and Chase thought that sucked.
"I'm not that nice," came Chase's clipped response, fingers toying with some knob beneath where the espresso poured out and detaching a piece so he could clean it. He tried really, really hard to maintain his machines himself because it kept costs down and it meant that he understood it better and that meant he made better drinks. "And I don't tend to turn customers away."
He didn't mean to be so harsh, especially since he asked about the people in Auguste's life and yet -
Chase glanced at Auguste out of the corner of his eye, noticing the tight grip on his cup. "But the city has good people, if you find them."
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2016 7:54 am
His parents had not been unkind, he supposed - but they had not been anything else, either. They were just faceless figureheads now, two people that had raised him but not given him anything more than just an existence that he had constantly questioned growing up.
"They're not," said Auguste quietly. "Not to me, at least."
He had his own family, slowly being built. He had his own friends, that he'd been able to choose for himself, decisions that he had been allowed to make on his own. When he'd first come to Destiny City, the entire world of possibilities had opened up to him.
Customers.
The word was like a sting, like a slap in the face. Auguste felt himself draw back, his eyes widening, and for a few seconds he looked stricken, a steady flush beginning to suffuse his pale cheeks. His mouth opened and then shut, because the words would not come, both to his mind, and his throat.
Customers, he thought, and blinked rapidly, looking down at his cup. That's right. That's all we are. We're not friends. I'm just another face, just like how they saw me, or didn't see me. Just something that exists, nothing more.
We're not friends.
He felt his hand tremble and tamped down on it. Auguste tried to keep his voice light as he said, "I found good people, in places I didn't expect to. Like coffee shops."
He was silent for a moment and then said quietly, as he took a final sip of his drink, then stooped to reach for his bag. "But you are nice, Chase."
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2016 8:33 am
Chase wasn't being fair, he knew that, but he couldn't help himself. Even if he felt like an a** when he caught the look on Auguste's face when his words registered. He'd never seen the boy look so...hurt in the periods of time they spent around each other. Still, the solidness of his stoic expression remained as did the rigid sit of his shoulders while he worked on putting the pieces back together.
He pretended like he'd been too focused on what he was doing to notice the way the world seemed to shift for his companion.
Chase felt things on a muted spectrum, this was no different. He knew he should have felt bad, guilty, for saying things he knew would sting but he hardly felt any of it despite the slight coiling in his belly. If he were anyone else, he might've apologized for the harsh comments and the way he was closing himself off but he was who he was and he said nothing of the sort.
"I hope they're enough for you to keep coming back." The sentence was perhaps the closest thing Chase could say to I hope you still come back.
But you are nice, Auguste insisted and Chase had to hold back a bitter laugh when he thought, only on the surface.
"No, you're nice Auguste." Chase countered, turning so that he was finally looking at the other man, whiskey-eyes drifting across the bag that was now slung across his shoulder. The dancer was leaving sooner than usual but the barista didn't comment, didn't ask why he was leaving so soon. "I'm just charming and that doesn't mean I'm nice."
If Auguste had decided that it was time to leave, then Chase wasn't going to bother trying to stop him.
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2016 3:20 pm
The word kept ringing in his head like a bell that wouldn't stop chiming:
Customer.
He'd been back a few times to the coffee shop now, and while Auguste had not really thought about it too deeply, it was becoming a habit. A habit that he had assumed was a welcome one, maybe even one that Chase looked forward to. They had talked, laughed together. Was he this way with everyone that came into the shop?
He'd been deluding himself. It felt like a cold douse of ice across him.
Auguste's eyes flickered towards Chase, and he bit his lower lip, wondering if the statement was a desire for Auguste to come back as a patron or as - well, nothing, apparently, since that was all he was. It was a quiet, meaningless statement.
He hadn't left yet. His bag was still on his bare shoulder, but Auguste remained in his seat, his fingers absently smoothing up the leather strap as he considered the man behind the counter.
"You're nice," he repeated quietly. "You're good to me. I like coming here, even if..."
Even if I'm the only one deluding myself that we're friends.
The sentence trailed off, Auguste giving Chase a small, quiet smile.
"I'll come back next Tuesday," he said softly.
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2016 6:14 pm
Chase watched, stared at Auguste in a way he was certain was unnerving because his expression was flat even if there was a mix of murky emotions exposed when one focused on his eyes. In his hand was the rag he'd been using to wipe down the machine with and, beneath the dirty speckled fabric his fingers dug into the cloth, twisting it around the digits as he waited for Auguste to speak.
You're nice. You're good to me. I like coming here even if...
Chase didn't need to hear the words voiced to know what he was implying and still, he said nothing just stared unyieldingly. Instead his jaw set, ticked as he breathed but didn't move.
What was he supposed to say? Auguste was merely another costumer, one he had pleasant conversation with and even good banter. Chase appreciated someone he could tease but -
If he didn't know what side Auguste stood on, then it was best to keep him at arm's length.
Less ways to get betrayed that way and yet -
There was a part of Chase that didn't want Auguste to leave, not like this. Not while he believed that Chase didn't give a damn about him but he said and did nothing because, well, Chase didn't know if the dancer meant anything. Thinking about it made him irritable so he didn't.
It was better if he surrounded himself with people he'd hand picked to join him and his other life.
Auguste was too soft.
He was not suited for war.
Chase couldn't mold him into a soldier. It would ruin anything he might've liked about the blue-eyed boy.
"Tuesday then," Chase replied in kind, voice just audible enough for Auguste to hear.
That was as close as he would get to even slightly apologizing because he was convinced that a barrier between them was better than the alternative.
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2016 7:18 pm
His cheeks flushed a little under the scrutiny - but for once, Auguste did not drop his gaze. Instead, he kept his blue eyes on Chase's amber ones, watching him with a quiet determination that made his heart beat a little faster unintentionally.
The space between them seemed monumental, a veritable chasm, as did their differences. Chase, dark haired (except for that wonderful streak of violent pink), and tall, muscular in a way that filled him out in the shoulders and chest. And Auguste, shorter by several inches and slender, a willowy ballroom dancer's frame, pale skinned and pale haired.
They had little in common. They barely knew each other and yet -
- and yet the coffee shop was warm, safe, and inviting. It was a wonderful little place, smelling of coffee and cream and cinnamon. There was a man behind the counter, and he was looking at him, and Auguste could not read the expression, nor the tone.
He shifted off of the stool and kept his gaze on Chase's, drawing in a deep breath.
A small smile touched his lips.
"I'll see you soon," he said softly, and then Auguste had turned and slipped out the door just before the expression on his face fell and the burning began in his cheeks.
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