The air was dry and the sun burned a path across your skin as you stood just on the outskirts of campus, waiting in the brisk fall air. You checked your phone to see you were still quite early and gave a sigh. With anxiety boiling, you had gotten ready an hour early and ended up spending more time pacing than you did doing anything productive. Now, you were stuck waiting out in the brisk afternoon.
"Hey!" Ted walked up, almost unrecognizable without his hat. "Sorry I kept you waiting, here. This is for you." He hands you a small white box, and when it is placed in your hand it is quite heavy.
It was an unexpected gift and when you opened it, it was a block of something. The smell from the box was fruity, immediately alerting your senses to what it was: A dense slice of fruitcake. "Did you make this?"
He nodded and sent you a brief smile. "I like to cook a good bit."
You slipped it into your bag and thanked him before standing back up and motioning for him to lead the way.
Aboard the bus to downtown, the two of you sat with your legs touching on the cramped bus bench.
"Ted, you work at the museum right?"
"Yeap! Uh, I'm working under Bloomsberry to be the next director."
"Really? I didn't expect that. But it's still much better than anything I could do."
"You think so? What do you do?"
The bus lurched to a stop and threw you forward, but Ted caught you by the waist. You blush and straighten yourself up.
"I'm studying chemistry right now, I'm not sure what I'm gonna do, though."
His grip lingered on your waist for a moment before he settled back in his seat.
"I know you'll find your calling in time. At first I wasn't exactly thrilled about inheriting the museum. But now, I'd do anything for that place." Ted rubbed the back of his neck.
Another stop came around and you both stood up to get off the bus, him tailing you very closely, to the point you could almost feel his breath on your neck.
Despite your heart beating out your chest in fluster, you shuffle off the bus, thanking the driver on the way out. The stairs off were steep and dirty but you carefully inched out without a problem. Ted smiled at you as he stepped off next to you, the two of you being the only ones to get off at that stop.
The street you had stepped onto was bustling with lively people; kids danced about receiving angry cries from their parents who were most likely trying to have a day out, and groups of young friends laughed at the dumbest of pebbles on the sidewalk, probably drunk despite it being around 5:30.
Downtown was a common place for dates and even more common for violence among drunken strangers, but Ted wasn't planning on getting involved with the violence. Over the phone he had offered a date at a popular, although small, bistro that was run by a family from Sicily, and on the way to the bus he informed you he had made a reservation at the restaurant in case it was as busy as he expected.
Upon arriving at the bistro, you were thankful he had reserved a place ahead of time. As Ted held the door open for you, like a true gentleman, you had a peek into the packed booths and tables lining the floor adorned with gallery worthy rugs that had scenes of people dancing and cooking together woven into the very seams of them. Ted stepped up to the waiter quite awkwardly and spoke.
"I have a reservation for two under Shackleford." He was more nervous now than when he first spilt milk all over your shirt in a museum.
You stepped closer and put your hand on his shoulder, making him jump. "Ah sorry." You remove your hand and stand awkwardly by his side. He shoots you a nervous glance.
"It's alright, I'm just a bit nervous." In an attempt to regain some ground, he links his arm with yours and follows the waiter leading you to your table.
The two menus are already placed across from one another on the oval table you were taken to. Ted motioned for you to take a seat before him and pulled out your chair. You thank him and take a seat, watching him slowly take a seat before you.
The air between you stayed awkward until after you had ordered, with your conversation leading you down a rabbit hole of all the crazy things Ted has done.
"I would consider myself an adventurer of the city, but at the same time I'm more like a crack addict on the street than I am Christopher Colombus."
You giggle at him and remark, "Not that that's such a bad thing! Drug addicts are better philanthropists than conquistadors." When he laughed in response, you felt your heart flutter. He was finally becoming less nervous and more playful, letting you hear his deep chuckle that filled up your head.
"You're right about that one." Ted gave you a wink and snapped back to reality when your food was set down in front of you.
The meal was just big enough for you to not want dessert, but not enough to make you want to take a nap. After you were both done with the meal, Ted offered to pay for the entire meal, and when you begged him to not, he insisted.
The walk back to the bus stop was filled with a peaceful pretense, as you felt Ted was more relaxed than before and getting along with you well.
As you stood at the bus stop, the sun began to tuck itself away behind the horizon, its slow creeping fast enough to decipher the changing shadows. Ted stood slightly to your left, slightly closer to the curb. He turned to you, his head blocking the orange sunlight from your eyes. You squint, making out his details within the silhouette in front of you.
He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he was beginning to show, and stepped back a bit. "[y/n]. You know, I told you I wanted to make things even with this, but I wasn't honest with you." As he spoke, the sun lowered to touch his shoulders, revealing his flushed face. "I asked you out because..." Ted faltered. "... I want to get to know you. The moment you looked up at me for the first time I wanted to take you out. I know this is sudden but would you like-"
You grabbed his hand gently and gave it a squeeze. "Yes?"
"Would you like to go out with me again?"
His face was adorably twisted in embarrassment.
"Yes, of course." Your voice caught in your throat as he removed his hand for yours and replaced it more firmly, his face relaxing.
The bus pulled to a stop in front of you, blocking the last rays of light shining through the trees across the street.
YOU ARE READING
Shades of Yellow
Fanfiction!!AU!! cw: drugs, suicide, violence, rape A simple mishap leads to a complicated relationship with a man who has some strange priorities and an even stranger fashion sense. Despite your blooming relationship, a certain primate and a mysterious grou...
