late nights & hot chocolate

one || far away, this ship is taking me far away

one || far away, this ship is taking me far away

Amy Waite blinked, feeling herself slowly coming awake. For a while, she laid in the darkness with her blanket pulled up to her chin. The only noises to be heard were the tick tock tick tock from her clock, and wind brushing gently against the tree outside her window. She rolled over onto her side, and reached down for her phone. Pressing the home button, the screen appeared with numbers announcing grandly, 01:13. She wrinkled her nose, and set her phone back down.

Somewhere similarly, a little bit far away, green eyes revealed themselves to the world. Rory Lacus yawned lazily, and closed his eyes again. He listened to the sound of his brother's soft snores from above him, and let his thoughts run amok in the dark. When it was too hot for him, it became apparent he wasn't going to fall asleep very soon, so he brought his left hand close to his face and pressed the button on the right side of his watch so its screen would light up. Seeing the time, he groaned internally. It was like four hours away from an "acceptable" time to be awake.

He tugged on a shirt and a decent pair of pants, before stumbling his way downstairs in the dark. He grabbed his mum's car keys, hanging from the house key holder he had made in Grade Eight. There was a particular reason why it was his mum's car keys, and not his dad's. Rory's dad didn't drive, and for a very good reason.

Rory had just passed gotten his driver's license, so it would be okay. He'd probably get busted by his parents later, but it would be okay. A lot of things would be okay, when it came to Rory. Maybe that's why he was usually pretty hard to rile up, since his only response to it was "okay".

His neighbourhood was fairly quiet and always brightly lit. Rory could spot Eliza's light faintly in her house a few doors down. He swore he could hear the sound of her old typewriter she had picked up at some old shop going at it again, and the scratching of her trusty 2B pencil. Eliza and he had been good friends ever since she had moved into the new house.

He remembered the previous owner, an old man in his eighties, before he had passed away in hospital. None of the neighbours had known him very well, and Rory's family was no exception. His mother had insisted on going to visit him anyway, bringing a bunch of flowers that smelled too nice for Rory's preference. The old man had looked surprised, but smiled sweetly and thanked them softly. He remembered vaguely that he had enjoyed gardening as well, as he had often seen him out and about watering flowers when Rory was much younger.

Rory turned the key, and listened to the car come to life. He sat there for awhile, just listening to the car humming its own little tune. He was well aware he was wasting petrol, and even more aware that the price of petrol was always rising. Except for Wednesdays, when it was a little bit cheaper. Slowly but surely, he maneuvers the car onto the road.

His heart jumps a little, when the car hits the road, but it's a nice kind of jump, the kind of little jump that gets his heart racing and the kind that gives him that little rush and feeling of exhilaration and he wants that feeling to to last forever. But like everything else, that feeling comes to an end. He should find something that gives him that rush, Rory thought for a moment. Other things soon took over his mind.

Rory didn't quite know what he was doing. He only knew he was driving, but driving to where, he didn't know. He thought of the places he could go, for just a little while. He thought of lots of exciting places that he could go; but he found himself standing outside Affinity Cafe.

Affinity Cafe was old, older than Rory, as old as his parents, at least. It didn't look very old to him, with its high, whitewashed walls adorned with flower arrangements and photographs and paintings and slanting ceiling. The chairs and tables didn't look old either. In any case, they looked newer than the ones at any chain stores Rory had been to. Travis, his younger brother by two years, had said, "Well duh, it's not like a lot of people go there anyway."