𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗜 𝗪𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗜𝘀 𝗬𝗼𝘂 (Wednesday x Male Reader)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝟏𝟐

The brisk air whirls behind Y/n as the door to the Weathervane cafe closes behind him. He stood at the entrance, briefly gazing at the individuals that sat in their respective seats on the left side of the room, varying from fathers and mothers with their adolescents, couples, and elderly doyens with their doyennes.

A roasted coffee bean smell imbues the air around him, filling his nostrils with the complex and involuted aroma of light caramel and freshly roasted nuts. It was pleasant and welcoming, the scent of the coffee is one of its cardinal denoting qualities.

The e/c colored male discerned his fraught uncomfortable in the edifice, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. This situation was probable - foreseeable, yet he knew it was inexorable.

His social decorum was meager, predominantly in the town of Jericho. Even in the Academy, Y/n spent most of his time distancing himself from everyone; residing in his dorm, the Pentagon at night, and aiding Eugune with his beekeeping club.

Y/n could still interrelate a conversation with people; he wasn't that maladroit. It's just, after all, that has happened, he found no inducement too.

His ears picked up the sound of murmuring a couple of feet away from him. Shifting his gaze to the muttering, he caught sight of a little girl with disheveled primly smooth chestnut hair and chocolate eye-colored eyes pointing in his direction, principally his scars.

The inquisitiveness of the little girl drew her mother's attention as she rebuke her daughter's action - a deed she deemed flippant. The e/c colored male stared as the mother sent a small smile of apols in his direction, yet Y/n continue to harbor no expression.

This has always transpired wherever the Nevermore student headed - attracting undesired attentiveness - people's scrutiny directed to his scars.  One of the causes why he disliked being around a cluster of people.

His eyes gazed at his scarred palms as if they were the focal point in his environment. The once soft and smooth flesh now turned into a house of disfigurement with cicatrix engraved as reminders.

Each healed lacerate held vivid memories of how he obtained them - every single one clenched an assorted story - some of them were by accidents, others by his inept culpability, and the rest of them... He disregards.

At one point in life, Y/n was inhibited by the scars that inhabited his dermis. However, that self-conscious evanescent - was dissipated by his apathy.

A low sigh escaped his lips as he perceived how long he has been standing by the entrance the entire time, recalling why he was there in the first place. Before he could move from his spot, an abrupt blaring hissing sound garner his and the rest of the people's attention.

Y/n peered at the wavy light brown-haired male barista, who was frantically attempting to fix the apparatus. The barista briefly glanced around at his customers as another jet of steam shot from the machine - a look of chagrin adorned his expression.

Tyler felt exasperated as the expresso machine malfunctioned once again, fueling his irksome increase more as customers began to stare at the scene. This day was going off exacerbate and abysmal - adding more to the fact he was struggling to perusal the foreign language on the instructions.

He scratched the back of his head in frustration as he attempted to repair the machine, Pangloss it will work. However, another jet of steam shot out, like white wisps rising from the top of a volcano.

A third jet of steam erupted, engendering a fury sentiment as his face contorted into a glare. Before he could groan in annoyance, he jumped back astounded by the appearance of a figure as soon as the steam evaporated.