I'm so sorry I haven't updated
you can blame laziness and lack of inspiration
in fact the only reason I wrote this was I actually felt like writing for once
hope you enjoy anyway ((by tori kelly))
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Scott sighs as soon as Mitch disappears and removes the phone from his pocket, staring at it for a moment as he debates whether or not to call him back.
After a moment or two, he decides against it, and slips the phone back in its proper place. Scott remembers Mitch saying there was a newspaper with job openings, so he finds it and picks it up, scanning the paper. He eventually decides to get a simple job, one that wouldn't take much skill. He finds a landline and takes a moment to figure out how to use it before dialing the number on an ad for a job opening at a coffee shop.
"Hi, this is Amy at Starbucks, how may I help you?"
"Um, I'd like to apply for a job. I saw your ad in the n-newspaper."
"Ah, yes. Name?"
"S-Scott." He pauses for a moment, frantically trying to remember his last name. "Hoying."
"So Scott Hoying?"
"Yes." Scott cringes at how shaky and unsure he sounds.
"Any particular reason you want to work here?"
"Well, I like coffee." That's a lie — he's never tried it. "And I, uh, like people." Another lie — they weren't particularly nice when he was on the streets.
"Okay." The word is shaking with mirth, tremors of suppressed laughter caused by Scott's obvious lies. Scott flushes bright red and suddenly he's grateful Amy can't see him. "Sorry," he mumbles, "just not entirely used to... this." Amy finally lets herself laugh, and even Scott cracks a smile. "I'm sorry. I promise I'm not pranking you, I really need a job," he says quietly, and Amy calms herself down to speak. "It's okay, I believe you. Can you come in tomorrow?" she asks. "Y-... yeah."
"Great. Come in at 8:00 a.m., I'll meet you and give you your apron. See you then, Scott."
"You too."
Amy hangs up, and Scott slowly places the phone back in its holder thingy. He leans against a counter, trying to calm his breathing, before pulling the familiar small phone out of his pocket and pressing the button in the bottom middle.
A few moments later, Mitch is standing there, his eyes teary and tear-stains on his cheeks. He starts as he realizes where he is and quickly wipes his eyes, forcing a smile at Scott. Scott tilts his head, frowning. "What's wrong?" he asks, and Mitch laughs weakly, wrapping his arms around his stomach. "Nothing. I'm okay," he says softly, glancing up at Scott but looking quickly back down at the floor. Scott frowns more, taking a hesitant step towards him. "Are... are you sure?"
What are you doing?! He's a genie!
Say yes. Say yes. Say yes.
"N-... no," Mitch chokes out. STRAIGHT. He flinches at he loud voice in his head, causing Scott to take another step towards him. "What's wrong?"
GENIE.
STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT.
Mitch's breath hitches, and he takes a small step back. "I... I'm..." he trails off, hugging himself tighter. Another step. Now Scott is barely more than a foot away, still frowning concernedly. "You're what?" he asks gently, doing his best to force back the voice. Mitch swallows and doesn't take a step back, even though his voice is screaming at him too.
STEP AWAY FROM THE GENIE OF THE MALE GENDER. AWAY.
STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT.
Scott takes another step when Mitch doesn't answer, and now the genie has to look up to meet his eyes. His breath hitches again, but he doesn't step away, hesitantly reaching up to cup Scott's cheek. Scott tenses, but only for a moment, before he relaxes, his heart fluttering around like a little pixie and his stomach doing flips.
THAT'S NOT AWAY, YOU IDIOT.
STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRAIGHT STRA—
"Can I k- hug you?" Mitch breathes, running his thumb over Scott's cheekbone. Scott slowly nods, closing what little space was left between them and wrapping his arms around the smaller genie. Mitch lets his tears fall again, hugging Scott back and resting his head on his shoulder. Scott feels his shirt get wet from Mitch's tears and frowns, holding Mitch tighter. He gently leads Mitch to the couch, sitting down with the genie tucked in his side.
*facepalm*
This is definitely not straight.
Scott rubs soft circles on Mitch's back as he cries into his side, murmuring words of comfort. "Shh. It's okay. Don't cry." Mitch lets out a small sob and crawls onto Scott's lap to tuck his face into his neck and cling to him tighter. Scott's surprised, but only for a second, before he wraps his arms around Mitch and continues with the circles.
Welp, you might as well carry on. Don't worry about me. I'm just your conscience, my opinion doesn't matter.
Goodbye, cruel world.
Eventually, Mitch calms down, but he doesn't move and Scott doesn't tell him to. He knows that Darold will probably kill him when he gets back, but quite frankly, he can't care less. Because in this moment, he's in Scott's arms, and his heart is thumping faster and faster with every second he spends with the tall blonde.
I give up.
Fine. Die at the hands of a 4'11" genie man with a toupee. I don't care.
With a small smile, Mitch snuggles closer to Scott, whispering barely audibly, "Screw Darold."
YOU ARE READING
prince ali | scömìche
أدب الهواةgenuflect, show some respect, down on one knee. +++ riffraff, street rat, scoundrel. call him what you like, scott knows it's true. i mean, he's lived on the streets all his life, forced to steal food and sleep in his small cave thing that he manage...
