Ink Black Coffee and Syrupy Sweet Words

Chapter Three - The Giver

Jotaro hadn't realized that he had fallen asleep in front of the bookshelf, that is, until he heard someone knocking on the door. Panic gripped him for a split second, as he had slept well past his alarm. But, relief washed over him as he realized that not only was it Saturday, it was also after hours, so the store was closed, and had been that way all day. He then stood and stretched, wondering who needed a book this badly. A familiar face was distorted in the glass of the door, and it wasn't very happy. Jotaro fumbled with the keys, and unlocked the door, allowing Kakyoin to step inside.

"So, what happened to our plans, huh? Did you really forget about me that quickly? Not to mention the way you stormed out of the cafe yesterday, either." he said angrily.

"Listen, I'm sorr-"

"Don't bother apologizing. It's not like you actually care." 

"Kakyoi-"

"I mean, honestly, I knew you were an odd character, but not to this extent."

"Just let me expla-"

"Let you explain?! What is there to explain, Jotaro?! I'd LOVE to hear it."

"I... I'm honestly sorry. I didn't mean to stiff you, it's just... I wasn't thinking straight last night, and there was just a lot going on, and I ended up falling asleep in front of a shelf...  I know that isn't an excuse, but you at least deserve an explanation."

Kakyoin's angry gaze made Jotaro extremely uncomfortable, but at the same time, there was something enrapturing about it. His eyes glimmered like precious stones, and they were a shocking, unnatural purple. They were full of life, and had an iridescent quality about them. However, he didn't take too kindly to being stared at.

"So first, you give me some half-assed excuse, and then you stare at me like I'm some sort of animal? Wow." he snapped.

"N-no, that wasn't it, I... was just waiting for you to respond." Jotaro stammered, an inexplicable flush creeping across his face. "Listen, I know you're pretty pissed, but I wanna make this up to you. The shop's closed as of the moment, and it'l be closed tomorrow, too, so I'm free."

The redhead contemplated this for a second, and sighed irritably. 

"Fine. I'm off the clock anyway, so I guess we can still hang out. But you better make this worth my while, Kujo." 

Jotaro fidgeted a bit under the expectant look that Kakyoin was giving him, and in a stroke of madness, he grabbed his hand. It was surprisingly warm, and extremely soft to the touch. Jotaro flushed once more, and practically dragged him to the stairs that lead to his apartment. 

"I take it that there's nothing interesting to do in the actual store, so you're taking me up to where you live?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

Jotaro simply nodded, and ascended the skinny stairwell, his guest in tow. He was trying his hardest to impress the barista, as it was the least he could do. He unlocked the door, and gestured Kakyoin inside. 

"It's not much, but it's home." he said. "Feel free to... get comfortable, or whatever. Is there anything you're allergic to, food wise?"

"No, not that I can think of." Kakyoin threw his trademark bag on the couch, and flopped onto it. "But I'm not very fond of spicy stuff."

He flashed him a thumbs up, and set to work, using his small amount of cooking knowledge to make something decent. Within 20 minutes, a pot of respectable mild curry was simmering away on the stove. Jotaro began to set the table, not letting his gaze drift to the person sitting not even 3 feet away. Something told him that he was still slightly miffed, and he prayed that his curry was good enough to fix things. They both sat at the table, and the awkward silence settled in once more. The clink of silverware did nothing to alleviate it. Jotaro still refused to look Kakyoin in the eye, afraid of embarrassing himself even more than he already had. 

"I've been wanting to ask you something." Kakyoin said offhandedly after a little while. "You said that the reason you up and left so suddenly yesterday was that you 'weren't thinking straight'. Care to explain?"

"To put it simply, I had a killer headache, and the whole coffee thing wasn't helping. I should have said something beforehand." he replied with a sigh. 

"Oh, was that it? Why didn't you just say so? We could have met up somewhere else." 

"Nah, don't worry about it. It would've been too much trouble."

"If you say so."

They both went silent again, for a beat.

"Since we're asking things about each other..." Jotaro cautiously began. "If you don't mind me asking, since you clearly aren't happy being a barista, what do you want to do for a living?"

"I want to be an artist." Kakyoin stated bluntly. "It's not the most fulfilling of careers, but it makes me happy. Painting is the only thing that doesn't stress me out after a long work day. But, it's not something one can easily make a living off of, so I've kept it as a hobby for as long as I can remember."

"If it's something you enjoy doing, then why not pour all of your time into it? Money isn't everything."

"Hmm. That's not something I hear often, in all honesty. I'm always told 'You have to do something rewarding to society, in order to be successful', or something along those lines."

"Being stuck at a job that sucks ass doesn't sound very successful to me."

Kakyoin snickered a bit at this, and pushed his plate forward.

"While I'd love to stay and awkwardly chat with you for longer, it's getting to be quite late, and I have to travel quite a distance to get home. It was fun, though. And your cooking is quite delicious, might I add." 

"D'you need me to walk you to the door, or are you fine on your own?"

"I should be alright on my own. Have a nice evening, Jotaro. Maybe I'll come by again tomorrow. Don't stay up too late."

And with that, he left, leaving Jotaro to fully realize what had happened. He noticed that there was a dull, fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach, and that his cheeks were still slightly warm. He'd bet any amount of money that they were tinged a light pink, as well. After cleaning up the remnants of dinner and taking a quick shower, Jotaro lay awake for the second time that week, this time haunted by a possibility that he was afraid to consider.