lukewarm (krii7y)

trauma

**I'm back after being stuck in self iso and having some inspo. I'm hoping to have a chapter ready at least once a week (every Wednesday). I've been slacking and this will put pressure on me to upload. (It's a prologue chapter, but needs to be read to  understand the story)

nothing that happens in this fic is real or related to real life events of the people in it, just a disclaimer. just like the cover, I made this myself.

trigger warning ⚠️ - death, pregnancy, trauma, sad events. please don't read if the following are triggers.

Please listen to songs I've put in chapters as you read, they really help set the mood and convey the vibe.

different writing style - it's a mesh. a mess, even. but I couldn't keep this idea for a fic to myself. I hope you enjoy it. It's heavy and not fully written and jumbled (intentionally)  but I'd appreciate it if you read it.

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A pale faced boy in his green shirt and his brown tie, a faint cut on his face and bruised knuckles. His eyebrows were thick, never groomed, and his hair was a light chestnut. It used to be blond, though his parents always used to complain about his long hair so he cut it. A name tag a dark green sat on his chest, it read: John. Feeling annoyed at the sight of customers, he bit his lip and held his head back.

"Fuck this shit," he muttered under his breath, counting the seconds until he could leave.

And bang. A family through the door five minutes before closing time. John shook his head at his colleague George, who was meant to be on door duty. Some friend he is, John thought. What have we got here, John thought, raising an eyebrow. A middle aged mom with black hair and blonde highlights, and a very normal looking dad with glasses. Trailing behind them miserably looked like a kid, John wasn't sure how old he was but he noticed his dark hair and brown eyes.

"Here come the calvary," his manager commented, turning a blind eye to the family and leaving John to it.

As much as John wanted to stick his middle finger up at him, he settled for rolling his eyes instead. Quickly, he composed himself and smiled at the family fast approaching him. Nothing too bad yet, he assumed. They seemed like the average American family.

"Aye. We're looking for a new sofa," the dad said softly in a Canadian accent.

Or not, John quickly realised.

"And some finishing touches here and there," the mom chimes in with a toothy smile.

The boy beside them seemed uninterested, his AirPods in his ears and head bouncing away. John didn't know why he was staring. He didn't mean to zone out. In the distance, he heard the familiar sound of his manager coughing loudly. It made him jump.

"Look. She wants leather. He says it's too expensive. He doesn't want fake leather. She doesn't want a green sofa. They can't agree to disagree," the boy explained, the quiet pop of gum he was chewing in his mouth.

He wasn't close enough to smell the flavour of gum, but he swore to the present day he could. A mix of two flavours from his childhood - tropical and blueberry. He didn't think they went well together, but not only was it a burst of flavour in the boy's mouth, but a sweet scent wafting into John's nostrils.

John couldn't find the words. So much so that he spaced out. Again.

"Wow. Um... that's a lot to take in. If you'd like to follow me," John proposed.

It took a lot of his energy to turn around and head over to where all the sofas were. He could hear the footsteps of the family he was showing around behind him. John's heart was pounding, he could hear and feel his heartbeat. He'd never been so nervous at work before, he'd always hated the job and didn't want anything more to do with it.