He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not -TDDK-

Chapter 14 -Drizzly Day-

I changed the cover to something more fitting. Do you guys like? (Not my pic)

Last half hour. Thought the barista, blankly gazing out the shop's window. Rain pittered down the glass, cold and dreary, yet making the golden café lights seem cozier than usual.

The whole day had been this way, dreamily dank. Unlike many pleasant, or at least decent, days, he couldn't wait to get home and just curl up on the couch. Exhaustedly scrubbing the tabletops, the serenading sounds of the shop wholly enveloped him, rain picking up, the low murmur of the air conditioner, Ochako in the back, the hissing spray bottle and squeaky rag, every noise rising agitation inside him.

Out of some sort of instinct, his eyes drifted to the window across the street, as if drawn to the beacon of light pouring from the florists display window. Through the washed out, muted fog of streaming rain, it looked at peace, like a kind cottage inviting you a shelter from malevolent nights.

In all the honesty he wouldn't admit, he longed for the calming, affectionate, slightly awkward feeling of the boy across the street. Even from afar, the florist's gentle peacefulness radiated vibrantly as he tucked fresh flowers into the newest window display.

For the record, he was aware he probably came off as a creep staring like that, but he couldn't help it, his eyes were glued, wondering how one person could possibly look so gorgeous while working. Pfft- that's a weird thought. His mind mumbled, accidentally vocalizing weird laughter in place of words.

"What's so funny?" Uraraka hollered from the back kitchen.

"Nothing, nothing," he assured, quickly returning to the monotonous cleaning, his gaze averted to the hypnotic circles of the rag as it wiped tables clean of the day's messes.

Thirty minutes, his mind repeated, practically counting the seconds that seemed to last for hours.

Finally, the clock struck, 5:30. The day's work was done. Practically throwing the towel into a bin, a great relief overtook him as he slung his bag over his shoulder, and whipped out an umbrella.

Ochako waved goodbye as the two parted ways, each locking up a different door of the café.

Outside, the veil of pouring rain rushed down the streets, limiting visibility to just barely across the street. Everything looked just a touch from colorless, even the man across the street.

Wait, man across the street? Out of nowhere a man was now standing holding a bag above his head in a poor attempt to shield off rain. That's when it struck him, he knew that person.

"Hey, wait up!" He shouted, barely louder than the thunderous rain, echoing voice freezing his friend in his tracks. Sporting a beaming smile he bounded across the puddle flooded street, icy water splashing with every footstep as he hurried to get an umbrella over the poor guy.

With the downpour's sudden halt over the two, Shouto seemed surprised for some reason.

"Oh, um, thank you," he stammered, pulling his soggy bag back across his shoulder.

"C'mon I'm not gonna let you stand outside in this kind of weather," his freckled smile and kind eyes offering effortless geniality. "May I walk you home?" He offered, his joking tone betraying his inner sincerity.

"Re-really?" Mismatched eyes glanced away, likely in the direction of his home.

"Of course!"

"Are you sure it's not an intrusion to your schedule?"

"Yeah, my evening's clear," just seeing his new favorite person had already boosted his crappy mood, an oddity that seemed to surround the taller of the two like an angelic halo. "Lead the way,"

With that the two began their walk through the stormy city, weaving through puddles and under traffic lights to the destination. Along the way, Shouto began to drift out from under the umbrella, warranting a little laugh from the shorter boy.

"Where ya going? C'mere, stay under the umbrella with me," he twined his hand into the wandering florist's, triggering a soft pinkness to flush the boy's bashful cheeks.

"Apologies, a- a bad habit of mine," he mumbled, tripping over embarrassed words.

Even a soaking, blushing, apologetic, mess, Shouto looked stunning. Raindrops dripping softly off his lashes, trickling just in front of beautifully bicolored eyes, each a shade so richly dissimilar, one a turquoise as clear and bright as ocean waters, shimmering with sunlight, the other a stormy gray, darker than the clouds above, hazy like a fog that drove experienced sailors careening toward rocks, blinding lighthouses from their duties.

"Wow." Blinking, in an almost disbelief, the barista was near unable to embrace the full color, stuck staring intoxicatingly alluring irises.

"Huh?" The pair of eyes quickly turned to see what was the matter, meeting the startled green ones that immediately turned away.

"No, nevermind, n-nothing," Despite his denial, the grenette knew his sweating palms were a dead giveaway.

"Oh, alright." Turning away, the florist tightened his grip on the other boy's hand.

The rest of the walk was relatively silent conversation wise, bare mentions of directions only spoken when necessary, yet the intertwining of their hands spoke of indescribable words.

It was a brief journey, arriving at the doorstep of a small apartment, the umbrella's aid had been abandoned, since the the porch of the overhead apartment provided shielding from the worsened thunderstorm.

Single-handedly fiddling with a set of keys, the taller of the two stood, trying to find the proper one for this door without dropping them all.

"You- you can let go of my hand if it's easier," Midoriya giggled, tilting his head into the florist's view. Though it would seem he'd been ignoring, the gently tightened grip suggested, adorably, that maybe Shouto didn't want to. "Or not,"

The door flung opened at last, spilling the apartment's light out across puddle stained concrete.

"I guess this is goodbye, then."

"Are you sure? Would you like to come in and dry off, maybe have a tea."

"Thank you, but I really should be going, my- my mother is waiting on me."

"Ah, I'll not keep you any longer." Nervously scratching the back to his neck, Shouto's eyes darted aimlessly, just trying to avoid contact with piercing green ones.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Tugging on the taller boy's hand, the freckled barista managed to drag Sho even closer to him.

"Yeah-"

"Can't wait," tiptoes pushed Izu off the ground, raising the boy's face to meet the florist's height, soft pink lips pressed against lush cherry cheeks, a kiss, lasting for infinite seconds, yet stopping before it ever began, gorgeously still, simultaneously ever-moving, a work of art, encased in a puzzle with each piece perfectly in place. "Buh-bye~," in a voice silken as the finest satin known, he let go of the hand wound tightly between his own, slowly disappearing into the dreary rains.

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u are my cold side of the pillow ♡