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SCENE ONE,lukewarm ( ぬるい )
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╭ ⋆ ━━━ THE DAY STARTED LIKE ANY OTHER.
She cooked her breakfast, awake enough to not burn anything but drowsy enough to go back to bed if her shift in the café didn't start so early.
She strirred the porridge in the pot, switching off the flame under the pot to make sure it didn't burn and set itself aflame. She let her breakfast cool a little as she went to change into a fresher pair of clothing, her teeth brushed, her hair combed, her body washed clean. And although her morning was going smoothly, she wasn't pleased with the porridge turning out lumpy and too hot for her taste and tasting funny.
With a translucent, sour expression lingering on her features, she opened the door to her apartment and stepped out, shivering at the lack of a heater in the hallway to rescue the residents in the chilling cold.
The door was locked with a click and the turn of her key, the said key sliding into her small backpack after its use.
The door across the hall opened and closed with a click, making her look up at the person standing mere metres away from her.
They held gazes, unable to open their mouths out of their respective anxieties clawing on their insides. They had never actually spoken before, never caring to exchange more words than a "thank you," or "your order."
"Hi," she said, a shy smile creeping up her lips.
He could barely smile back, taken aback by her shy demeanor. In her Port Mafia days, she was hard-headed, cunning, anything but the shy girl that was standing in front of him, fiddling with her fingers. (Maybe this version of her that she had managed to hide before was surfacing, shining above the blinding darkness)
"Hi," he said, hand still clasped around the doorknob, refusing to listen to any argument that suggested that he should let go. He couldn't, wouldn't, at least not until this awkward moment passed.
