| Coffee Shops and Cold Hands | Tradley | SHORT STORY <3 COMPLETED

White lips, pale face.

Song for chapter - The A Team, by Ed Sheeran

The coffee shop closes at 12:00 at night. It was now 12:07. Tristan knew he had to close up, he had been doing this for 3 years, but tonight was different.

He pretended to be busy cleaning the coffee machine, every now and then stealing a glance at the boy in the far end of the shop. He was wrapped up warm, yet somehow looked beyond freezing cold. His eyes looked tired, and there were dark bags underneath them. He was gripping his coffee mug so tight that his bruised knuckles turned as white as his already pale skin.

Tris didn't want to disturb him. He looked troubled enough, but he had to close up. He himself needed rest.

Slowly making his way over to the boy, he cleared his throat, causing the brunette to look up suddenly.

"Sir, my apologies but we were supposed to close seven minutes ago.." Tris said, gently. He gave an awkward smile.

The boy sighed, refusing to make eye contact. He began to make his way over to the door, his pale hand hovering over the handle. He hesitated before turning around to look at Tristan.

He opened his mouth, then pursed his white, cold lips together, deciding that whatever he was about to say could wait.

He slowly turned back around and opened the door, letting in a few snowflakes. Pulling his hood up, he shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried off into the night.

Tristan had questions. Why was he here so late? Why did he look so bloody cold when the coffee shop was warm and welcoming? Why were his knuckles so bruised?

Why am I so curious?

----------------------------------------------

Two days had past since Tristan encountered the smaller boy, he didn't think he'd see him again. He definitely hadn't forgotten him, but it was still a shook when he saw the stranger walk through the doors at 9:46 pm on a cold Thursday night.

Tristan felt his stomach tighten as the brunette got closer to the counter, once at said counter, he placed his small, bruised hands on top of it, looking down at his feet after giving Tris a faint smile.

"How can I help you today, sir?" Tristan asked, gently smiling.

It was the first time Tristan had heard the smaller boy speak, but he knew for sure he didn't want it to be the last. His voice was husky, as sweat as honey.

"Small black coffee, please" he breathed, fiddling with his fingers sighing a little.

"Take out or..." Tristan paused, looking down he saw the brunette's pale hand had a trickle of blood, running smoothly from his knuckle.

The boy saw Tristan staring, and quickly looked down at his own hands. "Fuck.." he muttered, trying to stop the bleeding with the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Hey don't stain your hoodie, I'll grab you some tissues." Tris pulled some out from the box, handing them to the boy.

" 'm sorry, cold weather you know? Cracks my skin.." he muttered, mopping up his knuckle.

Tris quickly made up the smaller boys coffee, before handing it to the boy. His fingers brushed the hands of the brunettes. His fingers were freezing. Just as he thought they'd be.

Smiling weakly, the boy set off to the other end of the shop, were Tristan had first seen him.

That's were he spend the remainder of Tristan's shift. And when he looked up to check on him, he saw the brunette had fallen asleep. Smiling, Tris cleared up the boys mug. Trying not to wake him.

Though Tris had the intention of letting the boy sleep, he was rather clumsy, and once he had gathered up the plate and cup, he tripped, causing the items to fall to the floor, impacting on a huge crash that made the boy jerk up in his seat, eyes wide.

"Oh shit. Man I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Tristan started mopping the floor and grabbing a broom, to sweep the harsh shards of China.

The boy stared for a while, before slowly using his tissue to soak up some of the spilt coffee. As he mopped up the liquid, Tris glanced at him, he noticed the boy had wild violets tied into his hair, and that it wasn't only his hands that were bruised his head hid faint bruises and his neck was scattered with smaller ones. Hickeys. Not the kind that looked loving and exciting, the kind that looked sore and harsh.

Once they had both finished cleaning up the mess, the looked at each other awkwardly.

"I'm sorry again, I really didn't m..."
the smaller boy cut him off. "It's okay. I shouldn't have drifted off like that." He sounded as cold as he looked. He obviously didn't want to be having this conversation.

Tristan couldn't help but stare at the boy. He looked pretty beaten up. And he was staring to believe it wasn't the cold that had cracked his fragile knuckle.

"You look so cold. I'll make you another coffee. On he house, yeah?" He offered kindly patting the boys shoulder. The brunette flinched away before shaking his head quickly.

"I'm late anyway. There's not point crying over spilt coffee, now is there?"The boy shrugged.

A confused Tristan watched as the boy walked towards the exit, out into the snow. Looking behind him before entering the Floral shop across the street.

Those bruises.
Thought Tris. And he couldn't stop thinking.

And it wasn't long beige he saw the boy again. Even more beat up than before..

Hi 👋🏼
This is new I guess, apologies if this isn't the best, though I do have plans for this :)

-Zee