･ﾟ✩ 𝐹𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃┊Conan gray x reader ✩ﾟ･

2) called a friend, let's meet at 10

Word Count: 1.1k

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Lying in bed, you force yourself to wake up, so you can eat some food, as you're really hungry. Fumbling, in your dingy but extremely overpriced flat, you locate a top and pair of jeans which you slip on after using the bathroom. Yawning, you feel a small lump in your pocket- which you instinctively take out to reveal a crumpled piece of pink paper. You open the paper, confused, but your memory comes back too you as you read the cursive handwriting.

I owe you a Coffee- Conan

You grin, dialling the number attached to the note.

"Hello?" A low voice says. 

You smirk, "Coffee?". 

You hear a laugh at the end of the line which makes your stomach bounce as you keep the phone glued to your ear. 

"Sure. Meet me at the Cornerstone Cafe at 12. That okay with you?" He checks. 

Smiling, you reply. "See you at 12, Conan."

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As you approach the Cafe, unnerving thoughts make your head spin. What if he forgot? Did he ghost me? Was it a joke? You smile, reassuring yourself that if Ashley is friends with him, that he's probably a pretty decent human being. As you walk into the Cafe, you scan it's capacity: An old lady, a mother with a pram, a middle aged couple and a few other people, who are working on laptops at tables. 

All of a sudden, a waitress walks over to you, "Table for one?" She asks grumpily, tying her messy hair into a ponytail. 

Before you can speak, you feel a weight on your right shoulder, looking over, you see Conan.

 "Table for two, please, actually." He says confidently, giving the waitress a grin. 

She says something under her breath about 'bloody young couples', but as soon as she's gone, you and Conan both burst out laughing.

Sitting on a small, enclosed booth, you and Conan chat for ages, about everything, before eventually ordering two large Coffees.

 "Y/n,"- he starts inquisitively- "What can you see yourself doing in 10 years?" He asks genuinely. 

You rub your chin dramatically, only to realise you have no real answer. "Well in ten years if I'm 34 years old.... Jeez. I don't know, Conan, hopefully I'll have a decent job- maybe a dozen or so cats." You joke. "I need to get a job, like a proper one. Not making complicated drinks for people to take pics with and put on their story. It's just... I don't even know.... Life just kinda sucks." You says thoughtfully. 

"That was deep." Conan jokes, laughing but then goes on, saying, "Y/n, I'm always here if you ever want to, like, talk .... or anything?" He says. 

"Thanks cone." You giggle, rolling your eyes.

He smiles and you chat again for ages, the conversations flowing fluently -about pets, favourite foods, movies, books and family- as you drink up your coffee.

 You both finish the last of your drink, but as you go to swipe your card on the reader, Conan insists on paying, much to your reluctance.

"But Conan- I don't mind. I can get it if you would like?"

"No really, you save your money.... Buy yourself like, a hat, or something." He laughs, miming putting a hat on. The bell rings on the door as you both walk out.

"Conan. Can we have a picnic?" You ask, staring straight into his bright eyes. "Great idea."

Except for the fact it's not really a picnic, as you find a bakery, which Conan insists is the best in New York- so you end up buying a muffin each, and walking around until you can find a nice place to sit.

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As you bite down into your muffin it tastes sweet in your mouth. "Mmm. Thanks for buying me this Conan!" You say, still mindlessly chewing at your muffin. 

His own muffin is gone- the moment he bought it, he scoffed it, you think, laughing. Conan raises an eyebrow. 

You laugh. "Nothing. Thanks again for today though." 

"Anytime." Conan smiles, meeting your eyes. 

You look away quickly, hoping he can't see your burning cheeks. "I'd like that. A lot, actually." You point out.  

 "So would I." You both laugh, agreeing that friendships don't take a lifetime to form. But rather a mutual friend and some coffee? You laugh.

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By the time you leave Conan it's already 6. Where the fuck did the time go? You think, as getting a coffee with Conan seemed like less than an hour ago. Sighing, you quicken your pace to your flat, as it's already nearly dark outside- despite it being almost summer. Summer, You think, I wonder if I'll spend it with Conan and Ashley?  You hope you do, because as far as your concerned, these friends are some of your best ones. 

Walking along the concrete pavement is comforting to you, the rhythmic pulse of your steps on the cement. Comforting; like the way an ocean sways, or like a child holds their toy, or, like the way Conan and Ashley make you feel. You smile, knowing that you have made friends for life. Slipping in your AirPods, you continue hope happily.

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Taking out your AirPods, and putting them back in their case, you walk up the stairs in your flat, letting your hand trail over the cold metal rail as you think about your day. As you think about Conan, even. Your chest flutters and you continue dreamily, walking to your flat in a misty haze. 

As you fumble in your pockets to pull out your key, you notice that the door is slightly open. Dread pools in your stomach as you drop your key, but you hastily pick it back up, scrambling away from the door. After about five minutes of careful thought, you kick the door open lightly, but edge away, not to be in the face of any danger. 

As your door creaks open you squeak, your arms prickling as you see the light in hallway. The light you always turn of before you leave. You run up to the door, slam it quickly and run down to the bottom flight of stairs. Who the hell can I call? You think frantically, scrolling through your contacts. Mom: She lives with her new man, so no. Dad: He's in Australia , so also no. Mac: Lives on the far side of town. Grandma: Can't walk. Ashley: .... ASHLEY. 

As your phone rings it echos through the eerie stair case. Suddenly a robotic voice says.

"Sorry. Your call cannot be taken at the moment. Please leave a message after the tone... BEEE"- you stop the call. You're  worried now- scared even. But there is still one person who you can call. Who picks up almost instantly after you ring their phone.

"Conan? It's Y/n. I need some help..." You say, your voice brittle.