Catharsis || Lashton AU - boyxboy

9. vrijlating

“So come a little closer,
There was something I could tell you,
You were such a rollercoaster,
And a killer queen you are.”
Bleachers, Rollercoaster ☯

l.h.

It’s quite an odd feeling to wake up on a Monday morning and not wish for a peaceful death.

Business this morning was quite busy, as it always was at these hours. And despite the somewhat rude handful of customers who seemed to always think that no one else could ever come even close to comprehending how terrible their Monday mornings were, I managed to uphold a kind (and genuine, at that) persona that, deep down, fulfilled my narcissistic need to always be better than these people.

But this morning was different.

I didn’t only smile because positivity attracted customers, and I didn’t only apologize to everyone that bitched me out over their coffee not being the right temperature and things as such because of that narcissistic need I possessed, and I didn’t only spark up conversation with the customers waiting for their food at the counter because I knew that an apathy towards our customers would only result in a drop in business.

This morning, was just a really good morning.

Which was weird. Impeccably so. When I’d awoken this morning, I’d only caught Ashton on his hurried way out of my apartment and I’d only received the opportunity to say a quick ‘bye’ to him before he was out the door, and I was left only to lay lazily in bed staring at the messy sheets beside me that were like that to no fault of my own. But it was just a good fucking morning.

Like, everything was a warm yellow color and the clouds from last night had cleared, and though the air was as cold as ever, the sun shined down through the leaves in a manner that scattered light particles across the busy streets and it was all very lovely.

The loveliest kind of lovely.

And it felt like it’d been a long time since I’d known that kind of lovely.

And so now, business had calmed down quite a bit after the initial wave of people had cleared out after their breakfast to get to work, leaving just a light scattering of people that consisted of college kids eating at a record-breakingly slow pace while they typed vigorously away on their laptops, and a few elderly people who, quite frankly, had nowhere else to go.

Even with all the people who still remained, though, it was the kind of quiet like when you get up early in the morning and all you can hear is the birds outside and the remaining crickets that had yet to go to rest. And it was a very lovely kind of quiet.

Sully, contrary to myself, however, seemed to hate this Monday morning just as much as ever, if not more.

He sighed heavily and threw a rag over his shoulder, practically collapsing against the marble counter and grasping the edges with his hands as if his life depended on it.

“So, Hemmo, how are you on this wondrous morning?” and although I could practically taste the sarcasm and utter apathy dripping from his vocal chords, I knew that the way to my best friend’s good mood was to counter his sour one just enough to piss him off.

“I, contrary to you, Mr. Grumpy-Pants, think that this is the loveliest morning New York has seen in a considerable amount of days.” I beamed, smiling across the kitchen at him and having to resist my laughter due to the murderous look he’d been wearing all morning.

“Tell me, then, Hemmo, what exactly is so grand about this particular October morning?” he asked, returning something of a smile in my direction.