Unlocked Heart || A Garrence/Mystreet Fanfiction

Chapter Three

(a/n: cover art by PurpleMangaPower on DeviantArt)

***

"Garroth, do you have keys?" Zane asks me as we get out the car.

"Um..." I don't remember grabbing them before I rushed out the door this morning.

"Right pocket," Laurence is bent over, half inside the car, feeling around on the floor for his phone he dropped, so his voice is slightly muffled.

I put my hand in my blue right pocket and, sure enough, I pull out my keychain. "How did you-"

"I put them in there this morning before I gave the coat to you."

"Oh, thank you," I'm flattered at how thoughtful Laurence is.

Laurence emerges from the car, "No problem." He's a little grubby from feeling around in the dark on the floor, and fine dust peppers his hair and clothes. He sneezes.

"Bless you," I say. He looks kind of cute, all dusty and ruffled. I resist the urge to comment. "Find your phone?" I ask instead.

"Yeah," he puts it back in his pocket, "And this..." He holds up a small, pinkish object. It's covered in dirt, and is a little squashed, but it looks to be sort of pony shaped.

"Pinkycake!" Zane squeals, and lunges for the figurine. He snatches it from Laurence's hand. "Oh, how I've missed you!" he croons, wiping some of the grub from the pony, "I've been looking for you for ages, my precious little cupcake!" I can almost see the love-hearts fly off him. "Where have you-" he notices me and Laurence looking at him, and halts, mid sentence. "I-I mean-- um, that is to say--"

Laurence just laughs. Not meanly, though, almost in mild amusement. "I guessed it was yours..."

Zane turns crimson in embarrassment. He mutters something about gathering collectables being a respectable hobby.

"Hey, I'm not Brony shaming. Just let me know if you lose it again, Zane. Garroth or I could keep a lookout for it, I guess."

Zane looks... kind of shocked. I guess he was expecting Laurence to make fun of him, or something, but Laurence is too busy brushing dust off his hair and shoulders. "Th-thanks, Laurence," he sounds genuinely touched. "I guess you really have changed since high school."

"For the better, I hope."

Zane just nods, still looking taken aback.

To be honest, I'm a little taken aback, too, but I'm also cold and hungry, so I turn back to the door, keys in my hand. I try and put my key in, but it sticks half way. I struggle to pull it out, and try again, but now it barely slides in at all. "Stupid key," I mutter, resisting the urge to just break the door with my fists.

Laurence hears me. He comes over, "Can I see it?"

I look up, "Huh?"

"The keys, I mean." I hand them to him and he inspects it. "Can I borrow a pencil?"

"Um..." I feel in my pockets, "I don't think I have one."

Laurence snorts and leans over, free hand coming close to my face. For a fleeting moment I think he's going to kiss me, but instead he takes the pencil from behind my ear that I had forgotten was there. I must have put it there when I was taking orders at the café, and then it's existence just slipped my mind. I do that a lot: put things places, and then forget about them. I guess I do that with emotions, too.

"O-oh," I stutter, embarrassed, "I forgot I put that there."

Laurence shakes his head and smiles, then turns his attention to the keys. He doesn't see me blushing, which I'm very glad about.

Zane does, though, and raises his eyebrows at me.

I flush deeper and glare at him.

He connects the dots. Grinning underneath his mask, he wriggles his eyebrows, then starts making a kissy face.

I mouth at him behind Laurence's back, "I will literally murder you, baby brother!"

Zane puts up his hands defensively in a sign of retreat, but maintains his smirk.

I stick my tounge out at him, and turn my attention to what Laurence is doing.

Laurence is running the led of the pencil along the edge of the keys. It leaves grey, streakish marks, and once he's finished he hands the keys and pencil back to me. "Here, try it now."

I look at him questioningly, but try the keys in the door anyway. To my surprise, it slides in smoothly. I look to Laurence in confusion. "What kind of pencil-wizard are you?"

Laurence chuckles. "Graphite's a lubricant," he explains.

"Oh," I say, "Obviously." Though it clearly wasn't obvious, and that niche graphite fact it something only Laurence would know. "Where did you learn that?"

"Funny story, actually. In highschool I always-"

"Can you two stop nerding out about pencils and let me get inside?" Zane is back to his usual cranky self.

"That's rich coming from someone who just freaked out about a pink piece of plastic," Laurence quips.

"Hey!" Zane protests, "It's not a pink piece of plastic, it's a limited edition My Little Horsey Pinkiecake--"

"Baby brother," I interrupt him, "Do you want to go inside, or not?"

Zane growls but shuts up. "It's ok, Pinkiecake," I hear him mutter to his figurine, "I understand your true value, even if these two idiot don't."