keep me cold

Maybe it's a sign

his smile widens as he sees the realization fill my face. he stands next to me, looking far too happy to be at work on a Saturday morning. the black polo that constitutes the B&Q worker's uniform is baggy on him and is roughly tucked into a pair of black trousers, cuffed just enough to see his beaten up converses. his hair is just as curly and wild as the last time i saw him, and it hangs around his boyish face. 

"hello, um..." i grasp for his name in the back of my mind before realizing i never got it. in fact we have never spoken before this. then why did my chest jump and my heart beat slow for a second when i realized it was him? 

"Noah." he interjects. Noah. Noah. Noah. the name flips like a coin in my mind. Noah. Noah. he smiles playfully, his sapphire eyes twinkling like a kid's who has just thought of a plan to steal the cookie tin. i return his smile, for no reason. it's just infectious. 

"well, I'm Daniel." i say reaching out a hand in a friendly greeting. he doesn't take it. 

"i know." a trapdoor is released from under my heart. my smile drops with it. "Pete introduced everyone on Thursday." of course.

"oh," i say in realization, my mind going back to the session and Pete's droning voice. "sorry, i wasn't really paying attention on Thursday." he laughs quietly. 

"well, its kinda hard to listen to those two talking without wanting to throw yourself out the window." its my turn to laugh. 

"i mean, i can't argue." we both grin, finding too much humor in the cruel joke. he drops his head slightly, still smiling, and reaches a hand up to run his hands through the long curls falling onto his freckle specked forehead. he pushes them back onto the top of his head and they fall clumsily over to one side. he glances up at me again and i quickly avert my eyes. i look down at my hands, for something to do, and find the bead of blood slowly starting to swell. its now the size of the tip of a sewing pin. 

"do you want a plaster for that?" he asks, his eyes also trained on the blood.

"oh- i-" i say, slightly embarrassed. i go to wipe the blood on my jeans but he grabs my wrist. his grip is surprisingly gentle. shocked, my eyes fly to his face. with his face still tilted down, he looks up at me through his unkempt eyebrows. he takes a small step forward, his eyes daring me to step away. i don't. he raises his eyebrows, reiterating his question. the blue orbs dart over my face, searching for an answer. i nod. of course i don't need a plaster. i'm a grown man, and its just a small prick, but i just want a plaster. i want one of his plasters. finally relinquishing me for our unrelenting eye contact, he reached into his pocket and withdraws a small plaster. letting go of my hand for a second, he carefully rips off the protective paper and peals off the backing. its a light blue plaster. not quite aqua but not baby blue either. 

...

once the plaster is safely secured on my finger, his pulls back, examining his work. 

"there." he says, stepping away and letting go of my hand. 

"thanks." he nods and starts to busy himself with the plants on the closest shelf. "do you just carry around plasters?" his hands run over the countless leaves and petals, brushing over them lightly. he nods slowly.

"working here, you'd be surprised how often i need them."

"really?" he turns to me suddenly, his attention on the flowers immediately gone. 

"you don't want to know how many people come in here everyday and leave with injuries." his voice is dead pan and his eyes are icy cold.

"that's..." i search for the right word. "odd?" 

"yeah." he says, his glare boreing deep into my skull. "the things I've seen at this job."i involuntarily shudder under his steady glare. 

"that traumatic, eh?" he nods, never breaking eye contact. then he stands. he stands and he stares. a look of deep anguish in his eyes. i don't look away. i don't want to. 

The corners of his mouth start to twitch and before i know it hes bent over double laughing. i let out a long breath i didn't realize i was holding in, and start to laugh too. "your face." he splutters through the cloud of amusement holding him down. his laugh mingles with the light pollinated air and washes over me like waves. the laughter slowly devolves and he straightens up again, eyes pricked with tears. "no, no." he says, wiping the back of hands over his eyes. "i don't just carry around plasters. my little sister put then in my pocket this morning cause they're her favorite colour." a fond smile tugs at the corner if his mouth and his eyes twinkle again. 

"what a lucky coincidence that today is the day that you actually need them" i say, lifting my finger again to look at the small plaster. it is a very pretty colour. 

"maybe it's a sign." his voice is thick and thoughtful. i look up to see his eyebrows knitted as he also looks at the plaster carefully applied to my fingertip.  

"a sign of what?" he shrugs, looking away again. 

"just a sign." his voice is oddly deep and mysterious. i laugh at the seriousness of his tone before mu laugh is cut off by the muffled overhead speaker voice.

"can any available staff please make their way to checkout 3 please. that's any available staff to check out 3." the god-like voice booms over the shop, reaching every empty corner and crevice. 

"well that's my cue i guess." i nod. he starts to walk away before turning around, that familiar grin plastered on his lips. walking backwards he calls back to me. 

"maybe its a sign that my sister is the second coming of Jesus." and then he's gone.

{author's note}

what do you think of Noah? 

tell me if there's anything you want to happen in the story. 

make sure to vote and comment if you liked it, i need to be validated somehow.