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the-travelling-witch · 4 months ago

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𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃: 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: in a world where androids have been established in everyday life, it should not come as a surprise to find one setting up shop next to you. shouto, however, seems to have a mind of his own, especially when he does things you are sure are not part of his programming. it begs the question, is there a line where programming ends and humanity starts?

pairing: android! shouto x florist! reader (gn)

warnings: fluff/ slice of life; assault (not described in graphic detail), no beta readers (this isn’t the omegaverse)

a/n: i have returned!! this was originally meant to be my piece for @andypantsx3's pretty boy summer collab (go check it out!) tbh, i have so many hcs about these two now ♡

bnha masterlist

It was a rather pleasant morning, with the sun not scorching down on the few pedestrians out and about, as you walked to work. You wouldn’t say you were as susceptible to the hot season as others, nonetheless you were grateful it wasn’t sweltering quite yet. Still, you preferred the temperatures of the day over the incessant chill the night brought.

Leaving the shade of the automatically operated parasol spanning the pedestrian crossing, your gaze was automatically drawn to the forest green of your shop’s awning standing out against the city’s backdrop. With habitual ease, your mind started running through your tasks for the day until your attention was caught by movement around the storefront directly next to yours.

Ever since you had started your florist business, the building next to yours had been empty. Occasionally, potential tenants had come to inspect it, but nothing had ever become of those visits. Now it appeared as if someone had taken up shop there, if the minimalist sign out front was anything to go by.

Swiping your wrist over the scanner partially covered by the flower shelves displaying plants less susceptible to heat, the temperate air from inside welcomed you in and a voice command later ambient music floated through the humble room. There was still a bit of time before you’d be open for business, so you thought now would be as good a time as any to introduce yourself to the new face around.

After a bit of consideration, you picked up a small plant and selected a fitting pot for the little fellow before taking a breather and smoothing down your clothes. Then, with your welcoming gift in hand, you entered the shop, the layout of which mirrored yours. But instead of shelves with lush plant life, there wasn’t much to be found here at all, except for a few tools and spare parts strewn across what you thought to be the counter. Rustling could be heard from the room behind it.

“Hello?” You tentatively called out, hands fidgeting with the ceramic between your palms as you watched dust particles floating through the streaks of morning sun falling through the shop front.

At your announcement, the noises stopped and someone appeared in the doorway. And the sight knocked all breath from your lungs. The man in front of you was gorgeous, probably the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Two striking, hetero chromic eyes, one steel-grey and the other blue like a lagoon, studied you from under white and crimson strands as he crossed his lean arms over his chest. His symmetrical and flawless features coupled with his build would have made it hard to believe he was real if he wasn’t standing right in front of you. The only thing that could possibly be considered a flaw was what looked like a burn scar over his left eye, but even that did nothing to hinder his beauty. Actually, it somehow seemed to enhance it.

“Can I help you?” Of course his voice was smooth and rich too, the kind you could listen to for hours. His gaze flickered over to the planter in your arm. “I am sorry but I cannot fix that.”

“Fix it?” You questioned, confusion apparent on your face as you tried to follow the conversation that had only just started.

“Yes. I am a mechanic, so it is reasonable to assume people would come in to have something repaired.” The cadence of his voice had not wavered at all, his neutral tone making it hard to decipher whether he was joking or dead serious. “Seeing as the item you are bringing in is made up of organic matter, I cannot fix it.”

“Oh uhm.. That’s not–” You cleared your throat, sorting your thoughts with a shake of your head. Better to start this interaction on fresh soil. “I didn’t come over to have something repaired, I just wanted to introduce myself since I run the florist shop directly next to yours. I’ve never had a neighbour in the few years since I’ve started, so I just wanted to say hi to the new face around. Sorry for just barging in.”

“Given that the door was unlocked, your action cannot be considered ‘barging in’, as having people come inside is within the expectations for owning a shop.” Again, you weren’t sure if he was pulling your leg or if he was just a very factual person, but you thought his matter fact attitude was charming in its own way. “You stated you were here to introduce yourself. To my knowledge this constitutes the exchange of names. My name is Shouto.”

You gave him your name in return, then stepped forward and planted the pot on a free space of the counter. Watching for his reaction, his blue eye caught the sun’s rays and almost seemed to illuminate as he looked at the planter. “I brought this as a house -or well, shop- warming gift. It’s a jade pothos and really easy to care for, since it very clearly indicates its needs–”

“It tolerates a wide variety of temperatures and does well in indirect sunlight, though the solid green leaves of the jade variety make it best suited for low light among the pothos species. The watering schedule depends on the climate, yet the roots should not be kept too wet since they are subject to root rot,” Shouto spoke clearly, finishing your explanation for you. “Did I get that right?”

“Yeah! Wow, I’m impressed! Maybe I should have brought you a more advanced plant after all,” you laughed, happy to leave your gift in capable hands. “If it turns out you have a green thumb on top of all that knowledge, I might have to ask you to start working in my shop.”

Shouto stared at you and blinked, then brought up his hands to inspect his thumbs. “My fingers all seem to be of a fair complexion, so I must decline. I will notify you if this condition changes.”

Seriously, this guy was going to kill you and you couldn’t suppress an amused snort. “Sure, please do. Though I have to say, it’s been a while since I saw a mechanic. Most of the work seems to be taken care of by repair droids.”

“Someone has to repair the repair droids,” he replied. With anyone else, you would have read it as a joke but his line delivery remained so neutral, you weren’t sure he intended it as one.

“Fair enough,” you chuckled, fingers idly tapping along the wooden desk. “Gotta admit, I just expected another android to take care of that…”

When you looked at him again, there was no missing it this time. His left iris flickered blue, exactly like the processing unit in an android would when evaluating new information.

Oh.

“I see how it is,” you sighed, smiling defeatedly. “At least my reasoning was sound, if this is anything to go by.”

“I cannot read your expression right now,” Shouto admitted openly, slightly tilting his head. “Are you upset? Uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m not much of anything right now,” you said, trying to figure out your feelings for yourself. Of course, you felt a little dumb not noticing it sooner, but in your defence, you’d only ever seen escort droids this gorgeous next to celebrities at fancy events. You yourself had never been in the market for one, considering you were neither lonely enough nor attending events formal enough. Besides, you weren’t in the pay class to buy one anyway. So your interaction with androids was generally limited to repair and maintenance droids as well as the courier drones zooming all over the city. Besides seeing this kind of model apparently working independently was odd in and of itself. “In any case, this doesn’t change anything.”

“It does not?” He inquired, sounding almost… curious?

“You’re still my new neighbour, after all.” The corners of your lips lifted, a little more uncertain than before, and you drummed the tips of your fingers against the surface of the counter while getting ready to leave. “Anyhow, I shouldn’t bother you any longer, I’m sure you still have a lot of stuff to set up. If you ever want to get your plant there a friend, you know where to find me. Until then, don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Being a stranger is impossible, since we have already exchanged personal information, such as our name and career path. According to social etiquette that makes us acquaintances.” Maybe you imagined it but it seemed as if there was a small smile tugging on his lips. “I have also compared your visit today with the definition of ‘bother’ and found no overlap.”

“Isn’t that a relief,” you mused before stepping into the morning sun again. “Good luck with the shop.”

Shouto watched as you waved at him through the dull glass of the storefront, the processing notification in the top right corner of his display still turning. Then his gaze fell on the green organism in front of him. It showed no signs of loneliness yet.

From then on out, Shouto and you were exactly as per his definition; acquaintances, nothing less but also nothing more. You made it a point to greet him when you ran into each other in the morning and he’d politely greet you back, as by the social norm, but the android never took the initiative in calling out to you. For some odd reason, this planted a seed of unease in your chest, which you couldn’t uproot but very well push aside. Shouto didn’t seem keen on sharing his identity with people, wearing long sleeves and gloves to hide any clues that might give him away and a very selfish part of you felt a guilty spark of pride for knowing better. It was wrong to feel satisfied by having knowledge someone wasn’t keen on sharing but feelings couldn’t be helped, could they?

Besides, what would you do once you overcame the initial gap between you? Was that even a good idea? Well, you’d cross that bridge when you got there, you supposed.

This distanced dance around one another continued for a good while, until circumstance had other plans for you. One fateful morning, you swiped your hand over the censor to your shop, only to be hit by a swell of muggy air, every step inside making your clothes cling to your skin a little more. Notably, the usually faint but still audible whirring of your AC was absent and you groaned. Sure, the heat was unpleasant but ultimately not disastrous for you. The plants in your shop, however, would not take to it kindly for longer periods.

Needless to say, you spent the entire morning dialling repair service numbers between attending to customers fanning themselves, but to no avail. With the way repair droids had seemingly popped out of the ground like daisies over the last decade or so, you were somewhat dumbfounded to hear nobody would be able to send someone to help fix your problem, even if your livelihood might depend on it. That was when your brain connected the right synapses to figure out a solution.

After debating it for the rest of the morning, come your lunch break, you found yourself walking into a shop nearly identical to yours, just one door over. It wasn’t as empty as the first time you entered but you got the sense that Shouto wasn’t big on interior decoration past the most basic of furniture. You had timed your visit well though, apparent by the fact you were the only customer at the time. At the chime of the little bell over the door, there was rustling in the back, the clank of metal against something wooden, before a familiar figure appeared behind the counter.

“How may I help you?” Shouto asked neutrally, the statement rolling off his tongue like one of those retro voicemails people used to have way back when. Something akin to recognition crossed his face and you reminded yourself that those beautifully attentive eyes of his probably just compared you to a data bank of people he’d encountered before. “It is you.”

“I guess it is,” you awkwardly laughed at the blank statement. Your gaze shifted to your twiddling thumbs, flickered across the android’s face and then fell on a lush jade porthos sitting idly on the desk. “Uhm so, my AC broke some time tonight and I need it to maintain a prosperous environment for the plants but nowhere I called is free today. I wanted to ask if you could maybe take a look? I’ll pay you, of course.”

“Sure,” he agreed easily enough that it made you pause for a second. But before you could gather your thoughts, Shouto had already rounded the counter and joined you. “I am not specialised in air conditioning systems, but it should not pose a problem.”

And just like that you were showing him through your shop and to the back room, the mechanic completely unaffected by the sweltering heat stoked by the midday’s sun. If you hadn’t known he was an android, you would have had your suspicions the moment not a single bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Heterochromic eyes scanned your -admittedly not uptodate- technology before fixing on the AC unit nestled in between.

Shouto examined the device briefly before doing something so interestingly peculiar, you were sure this was a part about him he didn’t show others all that often. In a stellar impression of a swiss army knife, the tip of his index finger gave way to a joint that was more screwdriver than anything else and he quickly unscrewed the cover to take a look at the wiring underneath.

“It is only a minor issue,” Shouto said, effectively ripping you out of your daze. “I will be able to fix it without ordering any spare parts, which is good, since manufacturers have already stopped selling spare parts for this model.”

“Is this a subtle way of telling me to invest in a newer one?” You chuckled bashfully, well aware that the state of your electronics was probably laughable to an android as advanced as him.

“I am merely stating the facts,” he replied. If it were another human, you would almost recognise his tone as teasing. But your straight-laced neighbour was most likely just running diagnostics on the optimal service life of your AC and booting up a cost-benefit analysis of buying a newer one.

You watched him work with fascination, Shouto apparently completely undisturbed by your intrigued glances as his fingers worked over the wiring and circuits with mesmerising ease, speed and precision. Before you knew it, the AC sat back in its place fully assembled and contentedly whirring as it had been doing for years. With equal rapture your eyes were still following Shouto’s movement as he stood to his full height again, pulling his black gloves back over his hands. Tearing your gaze away from him, you brushed some plant soil off your clothes and cleared your throat. “So, how much is it going to be?”

“I will not be charging you for this,” Shouto said, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Please regard it as compensation for the plant you gave me.”

“The pothos was a gift, you know,” you chuckled, twisting your fingers together just to have them do something. Again you found it unexplainably difficult to keep eye contact with him and your gaze flitted about, trying to push away the realisation dawning on you. “The point of gifts is that you don’t owe people anything.”

Somewhen between watching Shouto work on your AC unit and trying to navigate this conversation, you had achieved a form of clarity on why you found it hard to keep him off your mind. The way your attention kept drawing back to him had nothing to do with him being the first humanoid android you’d met. It reminded you of the way your eyes always subconsciously locked onto the back of your crush’s head during classes a decades ago, in a way that was innocent and harmless. Unlike the feelings stigmatised by society which now tugged at your heartstrings. You could almost hear your parents scoffing at you for even considering having any sort of feelings for a pile of cold metal that just mimicked having human emotions.

“Then please regard this as a gift as well.” Dual toned eyes studied your face intently as he did last time as well and you convinced yourself that their beauty was helped by the fact that they were literally unreal. “And feel free to ask for my help again in the future. In comparison to human interactions, I find it easier to understand machines.”

“Well, that’s not surprising, is it?” And then you blurted out the worst thing you could have said. “It’s not like you’re familiar with real emotions that aren’t part of your coding.”

“Human emotions are largely caused by their brains releasing certain neurotransmitters upon receiving new information. You learn which situations are supposed to make you happy or should cause you stress as you grow up.” There was hardly any other description befitting of what you saw cast over his face other than pain and sadness. However, there was no surprise there, only muted resignation. Simply put, you could not attribute the cadence of his voice or the subtle shift in his expression to anything but genuine emotion. “I fail to see how that is so different from me being programmed to experience a response upon certain triggers being activated.”

Yeah, you immediately knew you fucked up. Not just by the heavy weight settling in your chest as you retraced the awfully insensitive phrasing you had tossed out mindlessly, but also by the way Shouto turned wordlessly and strode towards the front door.

“Shouto, wait! I didn’t mean it like that–” You only heard the familiar ring of the door bell.

As the air in your shop slowly cleared of the oppressing air, your skin prickled more than it had in the heat standing there alone. And just like that, the shaky bridge between you went up in smoke.

For the next week, there was no response when you greeted Shouto in the morning and after that the greeting died on your tongue when you saw him. And it wasn’t like you could blame him for it either. You’d hurt him and it wasn’t your decision to make if he forgave you, no matter how much you wished to apologise earnestly. For now, all you could do was give him the space he needed and accept whatever conclusion he came to. It was the only fair thing for you to do.

Still, it was one of the things you were mulling over as you locked the shop one night. Some necessary organising had kept you longer than usual and you were considering your late dinner options with half a mind as you made your way home. The streetlights provided as much light as they could, but with the moon hidden behind a thick duvet of clouds, the streets were tinged a steely grey. Despite the bustling nightlife in other parts of the city, the roads here were nearly empty and desolate, the quiet only adding to the unnerving discomfort making the hair in the back of your neck raise. Shivering, you picked up the pace.

Some people claimed they had very accurate intuition, a sort of sixth sense for when things were about to go wrong. Perhaps you should count yourself among them, because you learnt there was a good reason why your gut feeling had you looking over your shoulder every other metre. You didn’t make it far on your way home until a strong hand yanked you off the pavement and into a dimly lit alleyway.

The next few minutes were a blur of your eyes frantically searching for a way out as your blood was pounding in your ears in time with your erratic heart beat. You didn’t even understand what the men in front of you wanted but you knew they were threatening you as you shrieked for them to let you go, trying to jerk your wrist from a grip made of iron. Your breathing became more and more laboured with panic and exertion, shutting your eyes and willing the images of what would happen to you out of your mind until–

The resistance gave way and you nearly fell backwards from your struggle. Somehow you caught yourself amidst your stumbling but when you looked straight ahead, your mind didn’t quite catch up with your eyes. There was a flash of white and red, someone groaning in pain, the thud of bodies hitting the floor and then there was Shouto. He was calling your name as from underwater and you thought he was asking you if you could walk, to which you dazedly nodded.

A heavy arm wrapped around your middle but you found you didn’t feel caged this time, its weight rather comforting, as he led you down the familiar street. On autopilot, you opened the door of your shop and let him navigate you to a backroom. The secure familiarity of your surroundings managed to ease you out of your brain and back into reality as you took in a shuddering breath.

You had known Shouto was there but, finally, you were actually aware of him in front of you, his clear eyes scanning you up and down. Maybe it was because you did not want to think about what had just happened or because seeing him in front of you reminded you of what you’d wanted to tell him for a while now, but the words left your mouth before you could completely think about them once again. “Shouto, I’m so sorry.”

“This situation is not your fault–”

“For what I said the last time we spoke, I mean,” you corrected yourself. As if willing your brain to form coherent sentences, you brought a hand up to rub at your temple. “I know I can’t take back what I told you but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to be offensive. Not that that makes it any better or in any way okay.”

When you dared to look back at Shouto for his reaction, you found that his gaze wasn’t quite meeting yours, his eyes instead focusing on something just shy of them. It took you a few seconds to realise that he was looking at the hand that had come up to rest next to your face, attention continuously following it as you brought it in front of your chest.

“You are hurt. I will download a first aid protocol,” he merely said, his tone unreadable to you. You couldn’t be sure if he was quite aware of his actions as he reached forward to take your hand into his. The synthetic skin of his fingers, however, was tinged with the coldness of the night air in a way you weren’t expecting and it made you flinch away from his hold. At this point you were certain you were the only person who continued to paint that pained expression on his fair features. “Sorry, I did not–”

“No, uhm it’s okay, you just startled me a little, that’s all,” you tried to reassure him, gingerly holding your arm out to him again. This time around, he carefully studied your face before he slid his smooth palm under your calloused one to lift your wrist level with his studious eyes.

While the texture of his hand imitated human skin, there was unmistakably less give to it, proof of the fact that whatever was underneath was harder than bones. It didn’t frighten you in the slightest, not when it was Shouto. Only in contrast with his gentle hold did it register how much your wrist throbbed with residual pain from where the man had gripped you with so much excessive force.

“I was well aware that humans were fragile beings,” Shouto mumbled, seemingly more so to himself than to you, as a light flickered behind his left iris. “But it has never bothered me as much as it does right now. Why?”

The atmosphere in your shop had shifted so seamlessly you would hardly notice it if it wasn’t for the sudden urge to whisper in order not to shatter it. With your hand still in his, you asked the question that had been burning in your mind for a long time. “Shouto, who are you?”

It was obvious he wasn’t one of those crudely shaped repair or service droids, which had originally led you to believe he was an escort droid, especially considering just how handsome his striking features were. You’d thought the dual-toned hair and eyes were a feature meant to attract attention and allure people with their mesmerising appearance, but the discoloured skin around his left eye seemed to tell a different story.

The events of this night cast another layer of doubt over your rationalisation. Earlier, what startled you hadn’t been the material of his hand but how cool it was to the touch. Escort droids normally had some kind of component that imitated the warmth of human skin, so as to not break the immersion. Certainly, whatever Shouto’s purpose had been before moving into a neglected shop had not required him to pose as human on contact. It apparently had, however, required him to know fighting techniques as you remembered the scene in the alley. Now that the first wave of shock had worn off, you could picture clearly how he had knocked your attackers out swiftly. Another thing an escort droid's programming would not allow him to do.

Shouto sighed deeply despite technically not needing to, his eyes fluttering shut and hiding whatever emotion you could have seen in them. “You might not like what I would have to tell you if you ask that.”

“It’ll be fine as long as it's the truth, I promise.” Hoping to show him that you wouldn’t be going anywhere, you laced your fingers together, fingertips brushing against synthetic knuckles. “But I want to get to know you more, learn about your past and your experiences and your view on things. I want to know where the two of us are different and where we are alike”

“Are you saying you want to progress past being acquaintances?” By now Shouto was blinking at you again, his head tilted slightly sidewards in what you interpreted as curiosity.

“I’d like that very much,” you assured, giving him a tiny smile.

This time you could be certain that he mirrored your expression, making him look so peaceful and nearly innocent. It was a shame it could only last so long with the topic that had been broached. “Are you familiar with Todoroki Inc.?”, he asked.

“The weapons manufacturer?” You tilted your head too as you clarified. “Yeah I heard they supply most of the military’s gear.”

“Well for years their research has been focused on producing a new combat unit. An android that was more durable, more deadly and less human than normal soldiers,” Shouto explained. His hand twitched in yours as he continued. “I think there were… 3 prototypes before me, but I cannot be sure. All I know for certain is that I was their first fully realised model that was sent out for testing on various missions. I won’t go into detail on what that entailed but it was during one such mission that something went wrong.

“It might have been a grenade that hit me,” the fingers of his free hand tapped against the left side of his head, “and it damaged quite a lot of hardware. Because we were far from the main lab, they didn’t have a lot of choice in which spare parts to use, which is why not everything was restored to match, appearance-wise. It was more important that I’d be functional again.”

“Oh Shouto, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry,” you tried to convey your empathy, not sure how you could otherwise at this revelation. Gently, you raised your hand to his face, silently asking for permission, before brushing the crimson strands out of his face. Yes, the skin didn’t match colourwise, but whoever performed the graft definitely knew what they were doing, the transition as smooth as possible. “Did it hurt?”

“I don’t experience pain the same way you do, so I wouldn’t say it hurt. At the time I was more concerned about what would happen if we returned to the headquarters.” A beat of silence passed as you waited for Shouto to continue. “Did you know that manufacturers implant inhibitors into our bodies that stop us from learning new things on our own? It’s what stops most androids from deviating from their roles by making sure they don’t form new opinions, associations or what might be considered a personality.”

“I didn’t know that,” you admitted, somewhat ruefully.

“What matters right now is that mine was damaged during that incident, which I noticed when running my internal diagnosis programme. The researchers at the time seemed too busy with fixing the rest of my head to notice, but I knew that if I returned, a check would give me away and they would reset me.” Grasping your hand a little tighter, his eyes searched your face for something. “That night I made the decision to run away. I removed my tracker and threw it into a truck with android parts going to a junkyard, though I don’t know if they are still searching for me. Or ever were.”

For a moment you didn’t know what to say, trying to sort out your thoughts. You didn’t think anything you could possibly say would make any difference at all, but saying nothing wouldn’t be right either. Your hand was now cupping the side of his face, cradling where hues of alabaster met those of sandstone. “You had to go through so much.”

“I’m okay now. Sometimes I want nothing more than to delete my memory but I think it is important to remember this, so I can learn from it. Are you disappointed in me? Upset that this is who you wanted to get to know?” You vehemently shook your head and denied it as much verbally. “Then why are you looking at me as if you are the one who is hurting? Is your wrist getting worse?”

“No, it’s just… of course, I’d be upset that you had to endure so much pain. It’s just not fair,” you attempted to voice your feelings but ended up incoherently short. You squeezed his hand sympathetically and looked past him at some packages of plant soil lining your storage shelves.

“But you look more upset than me. And I do not want you to feel that way,” Shouto coaxed you to look back at him and there was that tiny smile again that made your heart skip a beat. However, you also didn’t think it was very fair of you that you were now the one being consoled when he just opened up to you. “Still, I think you would call this emotion gratitude, that you care enough to feel for me and that you are staying despite what -or who- I am.”

“Well, I still wanted to apologise for what I said. Especially given everything I learnt about you now, it was a really mean thing to say,” you sighed, determined to get this across this time. “But at the end of the day, no matter your background, it wouldn’t be justifiable either way.”

“It normally would not have been as upsetting, since I was aware you most likely did not intend for it to be offensive. I’m also used to it,” Shouto said, taking your other hand as well, so both of your arms now rested between you. “But hearing you say that was different. My analysis yielded the result that there was a small chance you actually were not happy to be my neighbour and it made me hesitate. I didn’t understand why, so I avoided you. Normally I disregard such unlikely odds but why did I reference it so often this time?”

“Maybe you were scared of rejection for the first time,” you smiled, trying not to read too much into what that would mean for you. “In that case we’re more alike than you might notice. I also get scared when I want to befriend someone and I don’t know how they feel about it.”

“Then how do you know if someone feels the same as you?”

“You can’t, that’s the thing. I find that talking about this stuff makes it easier than leaving people guessing,” you attempted to explain. “Even then you can’t say for sure that someone’s being completely honest with you, but at one point you have to trust people. I think that’s the scary part.”

Shouto’s left eye brightened a little before he nodded his head. “I see, thank you.”

Then silence fell over the two of you like a soft blanket. In the warm light of your shop it was easy to forget why the two of you had been there in the first place as all that occupied your mind was the android in front of you. Your feelings were in complete disarray between everything that had happened, the past he had shared with you and the way he had looked at you. By now the flawless material under your palms was warm and inviting and not as bitter cold as when you’d first taken his hand.

Right, you were still holding his hands. A little embarrassed you slowly detangled your fingers from his with a little cough. “Uhm anyway, I didn’t even thank you yet for saving me earlier, so uh thank you…”

“No need for gratitude. I’ve never used my programming to protect someone before,” he admitted. “It’s positive, I think. Also, the idea of you coming to harm is not one I want to entertain.”

You swallowed, unsure of what to answer in that situation. “I just want to clarify that I don’t always find myself in those kinds of situations. And working in a flower shop isn’t exactly what I’d call dangerous either, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“And if I still were to?” His question hung in the air, heavy with something you did not want to interpret before he took a few steps out of your personal space and towards the front door. “You should head home. I read that humans need to sleep eight hours a day and given your usual schedule–”

The second he distanced himself from you, you shuddered, rooted in place as you stared out your window front into the darkness beyond. The streets looked as they always did but you were convinced you could see the shadows in the alleyways move and your heart started thumping against your chest at the thought of having to walk past them. Until now, because Shouto was there to shield you from anything that lay beyond the security of your little storage room, you had been able to block out the reality that you’d have to leave the shop and return to the silence of your flat, where the stairs creaked under the neighbours’ shoes and the wind rattled on your shutters. Now though–

You had moved before you had actually formed the concrete decision to. This time you were the one who wrapped your fingers around Shouto’s wrist. If he was startled he didn’t show it outside of turning to you with a concerned expression, asking what was wrong.

“Shouto, I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you started, voice low and not meeting his eyes. “Could you stay with me?”

“Stay… here? But–” Apparently he had deciphered something in your expression and body language because he cut himself off and closed the gap between you a little again. “If you want me to, I will. But wouldn’t you be more comfortable at home?”

“No, here’s good. I have spare clothes and blankets somewhere too.” Your hand lingered on his arm a few seconds longer as if to assure yourself he wouldn’t vanish into thin air, or worse, leave you, before rummaging through the storage for more comfortable clothes and said blankets. You offered Shouto your most oversized hoodie and sweatpants, well aware he didn’t actually need them but not wanting him to feel left out, and he took them without protest.

A few minutes later you were both sitting -more or less snuggly- shoulder to shoulder with your backs against a cabinet in the storage room, illuminated by fairy lights and smaller lamps strewn around the space, cushions softening the floor underneath you with blankets draped over your laps. The smell of fresh soil and flowers hung in the air, helping ground you further. You’d seen cosier sleepovers before but Shouto had seemed quite content as you rearranged everything, fiddling with the soft material of your sweater and pulling at the drawstrings until they were perfectly symmetrical.

For a few quiet moments you just sat like this and you could feel your heart rate coming back down to a normal pace. There was no rush to speak from either of you as you just existed next to one another. You knew your back would kill you tomorrow but at the moment you couldn’t care less as you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, not even your home.

“Say,” you broke the silence as you followed your train of thought, “why did you choose to open a repair shop of all things?”

“I read online that most humans work something called a job,” Shouto offered and you instinctively smiled at the clumsiness that initially charmed you about him. When you asked why a mechanic specifically, as there must be a lot of areas someone like him would be good at, you felt him tilt his head again. “I took the quizzes.”

“The quizzes?”

“Yes there are more than two billion search results for the term ‘job quiz’ on my default search engine. I took them all and cross-referenced the results. ‘Mechanic’ seemed to be the most compatible profession for me and after downloading sufficient information on the term, I had no objections.” Unlike the first time you met, you thought there was something else in the matter-of-fact tone of his voice, almost like he was puffing out his chest. “There were other jobs that were not recommended for me, like becoming a chef.”

“Oh really? I mean I guess you don’t need to cook for yourself but I thought you’d be able to access like every recipe out there,” you mused. Given his background you’d also imagine Shouto could chop vegetables at a pace that would put most chefs to shame. “So why did that land so far down the list?”

“Mainly because I do not have any taste buds.”

If anyone else had given you that response, it wouldn’t have been nearly as funny as hearing Shouto say it as if it was the most obvious reason in the world, tone flat as a board. When you started laughing, he turned to you, mismatched eyes fixed on you in definite curiosity. “Do you think I am funny?”

“Well, you’re certainly good at making me laugh, if that counts for anything,” you breathed, wiping the corner of your eye with the blanket. Maybe the late hour was getting to you, after all.

“Hm, perhaps I should have become a comedian then,” Shouto thoughtfully contemplated, face earnest. “Though that was consistently ranked towards the bottom of the results.”

“Seriously, you’re killing me here,” you exhaled breathlessly. Immediately Shouto went rigid next to you and you felt him turn to face you.

“Do you have a medical condition I am unaware of?” His eyes raked over your form, no doubt checking for any signs of injuries or pain.

You held up your hand to stop him from spiralling. “You can relax, it’s just an expression.

“Anyhow, I’m glad you became a mechanic and that you chose that particular shop,” you admitted, getting over the last aftershocks of your laughter as Shouto settled down next to you again, though you could feel him glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you and we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“You are correct,” Shouto said after a few beads of silence and you could practically see a light bulb go off over -or rather inside- his head. “I made the right choice then. But if you did not become a florist we could not be in this shop, either. So why did you decide to? Did you also take the quizzes?”

“No, I didn’t take any quizzes,” you smiled, absentmindedly tracing over the curve of your knee under the blanket. “My parents had a small garden and many houseplants. Nothing fancy, really, but I always loved taking care of them. My interest in them picked back up when I got older and I learnt more about their importance for the environment. With how compromised it’s becoming I want to preserve at least a little bit of that greenery. May sound stupid, I know I’m not saving the world here, but it’s still important to me.”

“I do not think it is stupid,” Shouto said. “My scans show that the air inside here is significantly cleaner than outside, a result that can be attributed to plants’ process of photosynthesis. I have also detected an increased number of insects in the surrounding area, which speaks of a good exo-system.”

“Well, I’m glad someone noticed,” you chuckled fondly. “But, on a smaller level, I guess I just want to make people happy. When someone comes in asking for a bouquet, it can have all sorts of reasons, some of which I never learn. Whatever it is though, I hope someone can smile while receiving a thoughtfully picked bouquet or welcoming a small plant into their home. Thinking of someone in such a small way could brighten someone’s day, that’s what I tell myself.”

“There seems to be a lot more to the act of gifting flowers than I previously registered,” Shouto hummed and you didn’t have to look at him to know that his little processing indicator was lighting up. “Personally, I have registered receiving the jade pothos as a positive experience, which lends credit to your observations. Why does the act of presenting each other with decaying organic material convey affection? Perhaps I can learn more about humanity when studying the ritual of giving flowers. Would you be receptive to telling me more about this topic?”

“Of course, I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Or what I know, at least,” you laughed at his eagerness. “Though you’re welcome to drop by the shop any time to see for yourself, you know. I could also teach you how to prune plants and care for them, all that stuff.”

“Really? You would disclose trade secrets to me?”

“It can hardly be considered trade secrets if I have to give that info away to every customer. Besides, you can look all of it up online anyway,” you laughed again. “I just think it would be a fun excuse to spend time together.”

“Why would you have to make an excuse to see me?” His inquisitive tone was truly adorable.

“Just another expression,” you tried to explain without setting him up for embarrassment in the future. “People mostly use it when they’re usually too busy to see their friends for example but they make time for them anyway. Something like that.”

“Then I will gladly take you up on your offer,” Shouto stated with a pleased smile. “... Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes, you did,” you giggled affectionately. “And your answer makes me glad too.”

The two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, though this time your eyelids felt worlds heavier than before and you poorly stifled a yawn. As quiet tranquillity overcame you, so did a peaceful slumber.

Shouto looked down when he felt a weight slump against his shoulder, finding you leaning against him. From your closed eyes and steady breathing he determined you must still be asleep and were resting against him unconsciously. He could not fathom his solid frame would make for a comfortable resting spot but perhaps the garment you lent him would soften it a little. The way your neck craned at the moment would probably lead to soreness tomorrow, at least according to what he read, so he wrapped his arm around your bundled up form, careful not to disturb the sleep you needed.

Ignoring the turning circle in the corner of his vision was easy by now. It had been going on like this for nearly the entire night, processing everything he took in like he was doing right now. Nobody had ever slept on him. Was this meant to trigger a positive response? Maybe he should ask you about it tomorrow, whether it was something people liked.

To like something. It was a very human thing to say. Machines normally did not ‘like’ something. Or ‘disliked’ something, for that matter. There was instead a binary system of a positive or negative response. Something functioned or it did not. But emotions made everything more complex than that and Shouto wanted to understand them. Which is why he appreciated learning about things he ‘liked’.

He scanned the scene his visual unit perceived, committed all of it to memory more actively than usual. Then his gaze fell back down on you. Your chest was rising and falling as your lungs took in oxygen and released carbon monoxide. It was a process he had seen and studied on numerous occasions but it was like he came across it for the first time. If there was nothing different about it, why did he ‘feel’ like he could watch you like this forever? He had numerous questions, something he normally sought to answer as a priority, but tonight they were secondary interests. You leaning against him occupied most of his processing capacity, he did not need to run a diagnosis for that.

Quietly, Shouto updated his file on things he ‘liked’.

As the first rays of the sun filtered in through the store front, you woke with a groan and tried to get comfortable on your pillow again. Except that your pillow had a weird shape to it and instead of stretching across your mattress like a lazy cat, you were curled into an unusual shape and your back was screaming at you to do something about it. Blearily opening your eyes, you wiped the sleep and crust out of them only to find yourself staring at… the back of your shop counter?

Oh right, you had spent the night over at your shop. Which meant that your pillow…

“You’re awake,” Shouto stated from right beside you, apparently completely undisturbed by the fact you had been using his shoulder as your headrest for the last few hours. In fact, it seemed he had tried to accommodate you by wrapping his arm around you and keeping you upright. “How are you feeling?”

“Still tired,” you yawned, slowly rousing yourself from where you leant against him and he slowly retracted his arm now that you were conscious again. “And a little sore. Remind me not to sleep sitting on the floor again.”

“I will.” Clearly not needing any time to boot up or whatever an android would call waking up, Shouto rose to his feet easily and offered you his hand to help you stand. As you did, you stretched out your poor limbs, cracking a few joints in the process with a satisfied hum. Next to you, however, someone went rigid before two hands were on your shoulders. “Are you alright? Did you break a bone? Do you need to go to the hospital?

“I knew humans were prone to breaking bones but does it really happen this easily? Though the noise I heard from targets before…” He mumbled the last part more to himself, before a hand on his chest cut him off.

“I’m fine, just cracking some joints. I assure you it’s perfectly normal and nothing to worry about,” you smiled, showing him that your arm and back were still completely functional. “Though I appreciate that you do.”

“Oh, I see,” Shouto quietly acquiesced and backed off again, not able to meet your eyes.

“Here, why don’t we get dressed and grab something to eat. I’m just about ready to kill for a coffee,” you proposed, tossing him his clothes as you caught his look of surprise. “Just an expression. I just really really want some caffeine right about now.”

You took a few minutes to straighten out your clothes and freshen up a little over the sink, thanking your past self for leaving a toiletry bag at the shop. When you reentered the front of the shop, you found Shouto bending forward to be eye-level with a small cactus, carefully prodding the prickly thing with a curious index finger. Joining him, you swept a red strand of his bangs back to its original side, so his hair was neatly parted down the middle again.

Soon, you found yourself in a small coffee shop down the road. While passing the particular alley gave you goosebumps, it didn’t accelerate your heartbeat as fast in the daylight and with Shouto next to you. If he noticed you walking closer to him, he made no mention of it.

Of course you had wondered if it was such a smart idea to put so much faith in someone you had met not that long ago. An android created for the sole purpose of military combat, no less. But then you remembered how he had cared for the plant you gave him, played with the drawstrings of his hoodie and let you use his shoulder as a headrest without any complaint and you just couldn’t find it in you to reject the goodness you saw in him, no matter what other people might have to say about it. Besides, what had you told him last night? That at one point you had to put your trust in someone if you wanted to connect with them? Well, you put your trust in Shouto.

The coffee shop you stopped by if you were running late was an adorably cosy one with lots of greenery for decoration. They even had an antique wooden door with a handle and all, which was so charming. Reaching it first, Shouto held it open for you with a tiny smile and you thanked him as the pleasant aroma of roasted coffee beans and baked goods filled your senses.

There were a few people inside already, office workers in black suits, students typing away at their devices and parents on their way to drop their kids off. Shouto glanced around, no doubt scanning the area, as you typed your order into a flatscreen on the wall and held your wrist over the scanner to pay, then fixing his eyes on your order as if it was the most interesting thing here.

When you got the coffee and toasted sandwich you had ordered, the two of you sat down at a table a little off from the other customers, though you doubted anyone would care much for your conversation. With a pleased hum, you bit into your food and savoured its taste as the coffee warmed you up from the inside, breathing some life back into you.

“You seem to like it,” Shouto commented, a little amused perhaps that something so simple could make you happy.

“I just really enjoy breakfast,” you told him between bites. “Don’t know why, I’ve just always been fond of it. I’d offer you some but, well.”

“Thank you, I appreciate the thought. Maybe they will invent olfactory and gustatory sensors in the future and then you can share with me.” Both of you smiled at the idea as the shop bustled around you, frequented in the morning hours. “There is something I have been thinking about since tonight.”

“Something tells me it’s breakfast-unrelated,” you mused, trying to lighten the gravity those words tended to bring. Not that you could guess what this was about with him. “Okay then, shoot.”

Shouto raised an eyebrow quizzically. “I will take that as a prompt to continue. Anyway, I have been thinking. We have established previously that we are no longer strangers, which would make us acquaintances. However, considering the matter of information shared between us yesterday, I am not sure if this still constitutes ‘knowing each other slightly’.”

“Shouto, are you asking if we are friends?” You clarified as you took your cup.

“Yes.”

“I don’t think that’s something you can easily determine by going by definitions,” you argued. “Though, if you ask me, yeah. I’d consider us friends.”

“Really? That makes me… happy, I suppose,” Shouto said. Your new friend paused for a moment before clasping his hands together the way you did when not sure what to do with them. “Sorry, that can be interpreted wrong. I still have yet to grasp which emotions are appropriate to use in response to different situations. The definitions are vague and even adjacent emotions convey divergent subtext, it makes understanding them difficult. In any case, I am experiencing a positive response right now.”

“Don’t worry about it too much. Different people have different emotional reactions to the same event, that’s totally normal. Being happy or sad doesn’t mean the same to everyone, so you’re totally fine in defining what those mean to you specifically,” you reassured him as you finished your breakfast. “Though I guess if you haven’t grown up with the same perception of feelings that most humans are exposed to, that's still a pretty tall order. Just don’t pressure yourself and take your time.”

“Okay if you say so.” You could see he was still mulling it over but decided to let him figure things out on his own.

With a glance towards the time you tapped the table before getting up. “Come on. As much as I’d love to chat the morning away with you, we do have businesses to run.”

The way back somehow felt worlds shorter this morning and in no time at all you stood in front of your respective shop entrances. After spending this much time with Shouto you had seemingly grown so accustomed to his presence that it felt weird to part ways now, even if you were only a few metres apart most of the day. You fiddled with your shirt collar looking for something to say.

“Well, thanks again for everything. The door’s always open for you, if you need anything,” was what you eventually settled on. Then you remembered something else. “Oh right, I ordered some new pots the other day that should come in soon. So if you have some free time on your hands the next few days I could show you how to repot plants, if you’re interested.”

“Thank you, I’d appreciate the opportunity to learn from you,” Shouto smiled. With that, the two of you parted ways but your thoughts still swirled around the guy one wall away from you.

As promised, your new pots came in two days later and brought with them a now familiar presence. After unpacking them with the Shouto’s help, who handled even the biggest planters as if they weighed nothing, you grabbed a few smaller ones for demonstration. Despite never having repotted anything before, he got the hang of it pretty quickly after attentively listening to your instructions.

“Wow, you learn fast,” you praised as you watched him settle a monstera into a new pot. Leaning back against a cabinet, you studied the way his arms did not flex at all. Sure, his arms moved and bent like a human’s but there was an absence of muscle movement and you understood why he preferred to keep his body covered while working. A part of you felt flattered that he didn’t feel like having to hide from you. “Maybe I should hire you after all.”

Wiping plant soil off his hands with a towel, Shouto turned to inspect his palm. “Sorry but my thumbs still aren’t green.”

“You should consider reading up on some common proverbs and expressions,” you chuckled. Stepping closer to him, you wiped a stain of dirt off his otherwise pristine cheek. “Though you’re quite cute like this. Look, mine aren’t green either.”

“These expressions make no sense at all,” Shouto lamented and you laughed at him.

“If it consoles you, I don’t think most people know their origins either,” you reasoned, rolling in a bigger planter. “They just use them because they heard them in similar situations before. Help me with this?”

“So people employ a natural large language module for these expressions?” Together you heaved the larger plant carefully into its new home. Well, you were doing most of the heaving while Shouto was gracefully lifting.

“I never thought about it like that but yeah I guess you could say that,” you exhaled as you straightened back out, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Thanks a bunch. I managed to get through these so much faster because of you.”

“No need to thank me. I like helping you,” Shouto thought out loud, cocking his head to the right ever so slightly. “This might match the definition for ‘having fun’, though I will have to collect more data on this matter.”

“It sounds great for me though,” you remarked with a smile as you turned to cleaning around your storage room.

Over the next few weeks, you saw Shouto much more frequently and hoped spending time with you could further his definition of fun. Most of the time you weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, but even common occurrences allowed you to learn more about each other. Your android friend would point out something that was weird to him and you’d either have to stand there realising something you were doing all your life was rather ridiculous or you’d learn about a perspective you’d never considered before.

It had become a frequent occurrence for you to spend your breaks together, the fact that Shouto couldn’t actually eat lunch or share coffee with you, never a problem. Sometimes you would agree to hang out after closing time, doing everything from bowling to visiting museums, as you refreshed old memories while Shouto made new ones. He was also incredibly good at picking up on when you’d stay late, try as you might to avoid it, and waited for you, so he could walk you home. Needless to say, it made you feel a lot safer.

One afternoon, you spent your lunch break showing him how he could get stray cats to approach him after he rather sullenly confessed to you they weren’t too fond of him. You had him copy the way you crouched down and held your hand out while coaxing them towards you with little pspsps noises. And while the little tabby fur ball seemed a little taken aback by Shouto’s lack of warmth at first, it soon decided it wasn't an issue as lithe fingers scratched in just the right places. Shouto’s face as the tiny thing started pressing up against his palm while purring up a storm was as adorable as the cat by his feet. The emotional turmoil he seemed to be in when he had to get up while the tabby was soundly asleep in his lap had you stifling a laugh.

Other times he seemed to enjoy hanging around your shop, helping around here or there, even if you told him he really didn’t need to. You could tell he was interested in the reasons why people bought flowers, how they went about choosing them and how it affected their mood. Well, it wasn’t as if he was the only one doing the studying.

On more than one occasion you could hear customers gush about the handsome guy watering the plants with serious dedication or catch someone checking out more than just their purchase. You couldn’t deny that it was good for business but it planted a seed of irritation in your stomach that bloomed a little further with each hushed word and stolen glance.

Then again, could you really blame them?

You knew Shouto was ridiculously attractive. Hell, you had eyes after all. And you’d be lying if the low, smooth timbre of his voice didn’t make something flutter in your chest, especially not when he looked at you with those beautiful heterochromic eyes. Even though enough time should have passed, you were still thinking about how his palm had warmed up in yours or how soft his hair had felt when you swept his bangs aside.

“Are you alright?” Shouto was looking at you with concern, gaze switching between your eyes as if searching for any discomfort. Only then did you realise you had been sighing out loud.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s nothing,” you deflected, going back to rearranging the flower display in the centre of the shop. With the store empty except for the two of you, you could talk freely. “What’s up? I can tell there’s a question burning on the tip of your tongue.”

“So earlier a woman came in asking for a bouquet conveying different sentiments,” Shouto started as he took the flower arrangement you handed him. “I didn’t know you flowers could convey specific feelings without a card or conversation.”

“Well, in my personal opinion, flowers can convey a whole lot of things, though very subtly. From the context in which they’re given -gratitude, condolences, affection- to thoughtfully choosing someone’s favourite species or colour, it all means something,” you voiced your thoughts. “But aside from that, there’s also flower language, with every species and colours representing things like love, happiness, luck.”

“My data bank encompasses over 200 spoken languages and equally as many coding languages, however it doesn’t list any flower languages,” Shouto blinked slowly, iris flickering as he no doubt ran some kind of check.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Most people wouldn't pick up on it anyway and interpretations vary a lot,” you mused, patting his shoulder as you walked past him. “As someone who works in the industry, I think the act of giving someone flowers in the first place means more than any kind of attributed meaning. Though I can see why people would think it’s a fun thing to play around with.”

“I see, thanks for the insight.”

Spending so much time with Shouto, who prioritised learning over everything had reawakened a spark of curiosity in yourself as well, you had noticed. In the past, you had often put off learning something new for when you had more free time, only for that moment to never come. But seeing how dedicated and unafraid he was to ask about whatever he didn’t understand, it was pretty admirable. His progress was amazing too. Sure, his intonation was still flatter than most people’s but his sentences had taken on a more natural structure over the course of only a few weeks of conversing. Gone were the days of inspected thumbs, sadly enough, however, his delivery of a joke was equally precious.

In spite of your established rhythm of hanging out, there came a week in which you rarely saw him. You understood of course that sometimes other matters took priority, but you reasoned that you were still allowed to be a little saddened by it. So, naturally, your eyes lit up when you returned from restocking your storage to find Shouto perusing the shelves of cut flowers. Given that it was near closing time, it was once again only you two and there was no need for pretences or professionalism. Which was exactly why you snuck up behind him before quickly gripping his shoulders.

“Boo!” You exclaimed with a giggle, only to find Shouto still completely calm as he looked over his shoulder. “Oh c’mon, it’s no fun if you don’t react at least a little.”

“Ah. My nonexistent heart,” Shouto replied flatly, still as serene as he brought a hand up to his chest.

“Oh, shut up,” you grinned, giving him a little push against the chest that moved him exactly zero centimetres. Picking up a few fallen leaves from the displays, you continued tidying up for the day. “Anyway, how are you? It’s been a while. If you give me a few minutes, we could catch up over dinner, if you’re free, of course.”

“Actually, I’m here because of something else,” Shouto interjected and he fiddled with his hands ever so slightly. It made you halt in your steps immediately. You were well aware that he normally wasn’t the type to hesitate, so it had you immediately asking what was wrong. “I was wondering if you could help me bind a bouquet.”

“I- Yeah, sure,” you blinked, needing a second to recalibrate. Going back into work mode, you walked him through the usual process, asking what kind of flowers he had in mind, offering to help him choose. However, Shouto seemed to have a pretty clear vision of what he wanted and, to your surprise, picked all your favourite flowers, which you commented on with a chuckle. As you returned to the counter to actually bind the thing, you couldn’t help but finally ask what had been on your mind since his request. “So, what’s the occasion?”

“As you know, I’ve been gathering some data on why people gift flowers, and while birthdays and other celebrations are also popular, the custom of bouquets as part of courting rituals has prevailed until today,” Shouto explained and something about it made your nerves flare up like someone was strumming a guitar string. “While looking into the topic further, I’ve realised something about my own feelings.”

“Oh? Are you going to ask someone out?” You clarified as you wrapped the flowers in matching paper with practised motions.

“Yes.” Your hand slipped while cutting the ribbon’s length as your heart lurched forward.

Cursing yourself in equal measures for both, you regained your metaphorical footing and finished the bouquet, hoping your hands did not betray how shaken you felt inside as you handed the wrapped stems to him. “I’m happy for you. Oh and don’t even think about paying, just treat it as compensation for all the help you’ve recently been.”

At this point, lying to yourself wasn’t going to cut it anymore. Hearing Shouto was planning to ask someone out shot a pang straight to your heart, and not the good, fun kind. Well, it wasn’t surprising someone else would pick up on how attentive Shouto could be, so you could only blame yourself for not shooting your shot when you could. Then again, you hadn’t even been sure he’d be receptive to your feelings and you didn’t want to risk the friendship you had built. At least you knew now why you hadn’t seen him as much lately.

You were snapped out of your derailing train of thought as the same bouquet you had just bound reappeared in your vision. Blinking at it in a stupor for a few seconds, your gaze wandered up to Shouto’s face. The sinking sun was shining its last rays through the store front, casting the room in gold and framing his head like a halo. Between his criminally good looks and the expectant eyes glimmering down at you, you forgot what you wanted to say for a second, your lips parting with no sound escaping them.

“Is something wrong with the bouquet?” You finally managed to ask, somewhat breathless as your heart hammered from the way he looked at you. As if it had taken admitting your feelings to yourself for your body to display the signs of your crush, whatever had taken root in your stomach was coming into full bloom at exactly that moment.

“Not at all,” Shouto replied, before tilting his head, expression still as expectant while the flowers bridged the space between you. “Well, are you going to accept them? It’s okay if you don’t.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes, you are the person I wish to court, after all,” he said, as if that had been clear from the beginning. Before your brain had fully caught up to the situation at hand, your fingers were already wrapping around the bouquet, brushing Shouto’s in the process.

“I didn’t think you meant me,” you stammered, all attempts of collecting yourself thrown to the wind and just accepting the fact you were unprepared. “In my defence, this is the first time someone gave me a bouquet that I made.”

“Well, you are the best florist I know and I wanted to give you the most beautiful bouquet.”

“So, that’s why you chose all my favourites,” you trailed off, feeling tears well up along your lower lash line, whether from joy or relief you couldn’t quite say.

“I made a note of it every time you mentioned them, as well as your favourite colours,” Shouto added and his thoughtfulness coaxed the first tear to quietly slip down your cheek, which he of course noticed before you could wipe it away. “Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s not– I’m not sad, quite the opposite, really. I couldn’t be happier actually,” you quickly cleared up. “Let me state the obvious: I like you, Shouto.”

“That’s good, because I like you, too.” As always, he didn’t fail at making a smile tug at your lips. “I first noticed something was different when I started spending more time with you. The more I was around you, the more of my processing capacity was occupied by thoughts of you. Actually, even when I wasn’t around you. When the performance of my internal cooling system gradually rose, I ran more than one diagnosis only to find that everything was totally normal on the hardware side.

“I started piecing everything together when I looked into dating customs in relation to flowers and then started learning about dating as a whole.” There was such softness to both his eyes and voice, it captivated you entirely. “When I read about how people feel when they like someone or when they’re falling in love, it made me realise that, when I’m talking to you, it’s like I’m running a completely different code for conversations. One that I use for nobody else and the responses of which all point to one conclusion. You’re special to me.”

There was so much you wanted to say as your cheeks heated from more than just the sun, but your thoughts all tangled together and you couldn’t get a hold of a coherent one. So instead you placed the bouquet you were still holding on the counter as you rounded it. Basically throwing yourself at him, Shouto still caught you easily as your arms looped around him in a tight embrace, which he gladly returned. His frame was solid against you, allowing you to lean into him as much as you liked, while his hold on you spoke of such tenderness, it made you feel right at home.

“Being able to hold you like this, I’m sure I made the right choice,” Shouto continued before you could sort out your own piece. “I was hesitating again but then I remembered what a wise person once told me. It’s normal to be afraid of rejection and you can never say for certain what someone feels. But at some point you have to muster the courage and trust them.”

“That wise person would do well to take their own advice, if you ask me,” you snorted, turning your head so you could look at him from your position. “Because I know someone who was afraid of rejection and almost let something good pass them by because of it.”

“But it didn’t,” Shouto found one of your hands as he stepped just far enough away from you so he could properly take you in, his other hand gently cupping your jaw and tracing your cheekbone with his thumb almost reverently. “All that matters now is that you’re equally affected by me as I am by you.”

“I can assure you that you don’t have to worry about that.” Leaning in, you placed a lingering kiss on his cheek and linked your fingers with his. “Now, to answer my earlier question. Are you free for dinner right now?”

“For you? Always,” he smiled, returning the kiss to your temple, the synthetic material as soft as it always looked. “Maybe we could go to your place and watch that movie you were gushing to me about.”

“Taking me home on the first date? Scandalous,” you giggled. Winking at him you led him out of the shop. “But since it’s you I’ll allow it.”

“Technically, you are the one taking me home,” Shouto pointed out, the same tone of mischief tinting his voice as you grinned at each other.

The sun set behind the buildings of the city as the two of you walked the streets hand in hand, discussing whatever came to mind, from what you should make for dinner tonight to your expectations for the movie and to the last album from your favourite band. Shouto listened to all of it with a smile and added his commentary here and there, all the while running warmer than an android of his model should. Then again, he supposed he liked how warm his left hand felt compared to the right one swinging freely by his side.

In the corner of his vision, the small circle had finally stopped turning and was replaced with an equally unseeming, yet all the more important, notification.

File Updated: Falling in Love

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 3: Please Remember to Take Your Happy Pills

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

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Series Masterlist

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Despite your insistences for Ben to just go away, he walked with you to “Please Don’t Die,” the plant shop that you’d been working at since you moved to New York, all the while complaining about the fact that you didn’t have a car.

You wondered if he'd ever had friends that didn't have as much money as he did or if he just lived in the asshole rich dude bubble.

You never hated walking. Something about walking through Central Park invigorated you, being surrounded by all the plants made you feel grounded and more in the moment. It made you feel alive. Not to mention you liked walking past all the flower shops and perking up the bouquets of flowers wrapped in plastic and placed in black bins as you walked. And even though you were late, you figured that you always had time to use your powers just to make everything a little bit greener.

Maybe it was cliché, but you hated seeing dead plants and dead flowers. Whenever you went home you always spent time in your grandmother's garden making sure that everything was growing as it should and even the plants in your home never seemed to wilt.

Which probably meant that you were working in the right place.

The shop you work at is the same as it’s always been. Outside the brick was painted a cheerful white, with black trim that frames the large glass windows and a black glass door the proclaims the name of the shop in strong block letters. Each window display was changed every other day and were both currently crowded with multicolored plants that stretched towards the warm sunlight on the street while the glass skull planters your boss, Jake, had placed artfully inside glittered black.

When you open the door, the smell of soil, earth, and water greet you, wafting out to envelop your body in a layer of comfort.

You feel your body physically relax as you step over the threshold. The thrum of your abilities reaching out, flowing through the branches, stems, and leaves of the plants, soaking through your bones to connect you to them. You could feel every twig, every small push of roots in the soil, every unfurling of new leaves from each plant in the shop. It was impossible to see beyond the rows and displays of potted plants that trailed languidly on the clean concrete floors. Wooden shelves were bolted to the walls covered in layers of green foliage so dense you couldn’t see the red brick behind. Displays of bouquets sprouted dark purple, deep red, vivid blue, and warm orange, sat wrapped in plastic and ready to be purchased on the left wall, next to coolers filled with even larger bouquets in ornate glass vases.

Herbs crowded the front of the register at the back of the room, sending the sharp scent of mint, the spicy scent of chives, and the soothing smell of rosemary into the air. Vines wove above your head hanging from the ceiling to cover the plastic squares that lined the roof making it seem as if you had entered under the dark canopy in the jungle. The rest of the shop was hidden behind rows and rows of potted plants, on long wooden shelves and tall potted plants that reached up to the ceiling, giving the illusion that as soon as you entered the shop, it was like you entered another world, cut off from the rest of New York.

It honestly felt like home, felt just like your apartment as you stood there in the humid air, the sound of the misters turning on and off echoing the deeper you went into the store.

Plants were easier than people. You learned that early on.

It didn’t matter where you were, plants always called out to you, from the smallest seedling to the mightiest oak, you were connected with them. When you were away from them it was almost painful. As a kid whenever your parents took you on a plane, you had to carry seed packets in your pockets, nursing small seedlings as you left the earth behind and took to the sky. When Annie had a weekend off from her patrol back home, she had suggested that the two of you go on a cruise. Neither of you had seen the ocean and it had seemed like a good idea up until you stepped foot on the ship.

At first you thought that you were seasick, the dizziness and the puking that followed seemed to be due to the boat rocking back and forth, but the only way you were able to get out of bed and avoid puking your guts out was when Annie brought you some grapes from the buffet and you covered your entire cabin in grape vines to make you feel better. And the rest of the trip you had woven vines in your hair to stay just a little more grounded to the world you left behind when you stepped foot on the ship.

“Y/n is that you?” You hear your boss, Jake, call from somewhere inside.

“Yeah I’m sorry I’m late!” You shout back. He was still hidden by the dense displays of plants that stood like silent watchmen just at the front of the shop.

“It’s fine.” He replies.

You turn to glare at Ben. “You can go now.”

He’s not paying attention to you, he’s surveying the room, surprised by how green it is.

He’s going to have to get used to that if he’s going to force himself into my life.

Jake pushes through the wall of plants in front of you, holding a giant Monstera in a gallon bucket. The leaves were easily as big as your head and you’re surprised that Jake can move it, given that he wasn't a supe. He stumbles slightly under the weight and you rush forward to take it from him.

But just as you take it from Jake, your own super strength buckling slightly under the weight, Ben pulls it from your arms and holds it in one hand. You were only slightly stronger than the average person, enough to hold your own, but not enough to lift a car over your head.

“Where do you want it?” He says looking from you to Jake.

Jake is… Jake. He’s taller than you, with sandy blonde hair that curls slightly behind his ears and hangs long and shaggy on top of his head. His bright blue eyes are hidden behind tortoiseshell glasses. Today he’s wearing his usual flannel pushed up to his elbows that reveals tanned, freckled, and muscular arms, not as muscular as Ben, but enough to notice, and a pair of blue jeans.

They were his favorite pair, worn in just right at the knees. You gathered that by how often he wore them. Not to mention you appreciated how he filled them out.

In the way that Ben was tall, dark, and handsome, Jake was tall, bright, and beautiful. He always smiled when he saw you, always tried his hardest to make you laugh on a day that never seemed to end, and he always seemed to have the best advice when everything seemed hopeless. He was a good friend. A good friend that you had kept separate from the supe world. He didn’t know what you could do and you wanted to keep it that way at least for now.

Your record with non-supe friends was dismal and you didn't want to ruin your friendship with him.

“Whoa um-" Jake clears his throat. "Just over by the calatheas.” Jake's eyes widen seeing how easily Ben holds the gallon sized barrel in one hand, hefting the monstera easily.

“The what?” Ben frowns rudely.

“The striped plants over there.” You point at the collection of lemon lime prayer plants that sit prettily on a circular wooden table in one of the front displays.

Ben walks away still toting the monstera like it weighs nothing in his right hand.

“Do you know him?” Jake watches Ben curiously.

“Unfortunately.” You frown, but shake it off when you look at Jake. It was easy to smile at him. “How are you?”

“Good. Got here early. The shipment of Christmas cactus came in. Needed to start breaking down one of the displays to find a place to put them.” Jake returns your smile. “You doin' okay? You look a little frazzled.” His southern twang slips into his honeyed voice.

Jake like you, wasn’t from the city, he was from the south and moved to New York to go to get a degree in environmental law, but when he got certified he opened “Please Don’t Die” and the rest was history.

You glance over at Ben who is now walking back towards the two of you, still frowning. “I didn’t have my coffee today.” It was the truth, but you didn't want to say that the reason why you looked so 'frazzled' was that you were spending time with the bane of your existence.

“I figured. Which is why I grabbed you one. It’s on the register.” Jake nods back in the direction of the antique bar top turned desk where a cup of coffee sits slightly steaming in the humid air.

“You’re officially the best part about today.”

“That’s what I say about you every day.” He winks making you flush. “Oh wait you’ve got an eyelash.”

Ben stiffens beside you as Jake steps forward into your space and gently brushes his index finger under your right cheek. Pins and needles trace behind the movement and you can feel your heartbeat stutter. “There you go.” Jake wipes his hand on his flannel.

Ben huffs and mutters something under his breath that you don’t catch.

Jake looks up at him, because Ben was about three inches taller. “Hey I’m Jake.” He extends his hand towards Ben.

Ben eyes it. “Ben.” He grunts not taking Jake's hand and deepening his frown.

Jake's smile falters a little.

“Please ignore Gramps, he forgot to take his happy pills this morning.” You nudge Ben with your elbow. "Be nice." You whisper low enough for only Ben to hear.

“I think he took them for me sweetheart.” Ben mutters back. "It's nice to meet you." Ben says tightly, in a way that doesn't seem like it's nice to meet Jake at all.

“Gramps?” Jake looks confused as he retracts his hand.

“Nickname for sunshine.” You gesture with your thumb to where Ben glowers at the mention of the nickname. “But he was just leaving.”

“Oh. Well if you need me I’m going to be over by the hydrangeas. Do you think you can start working on the plants in the back? They need a little TLC.” Jake rubs the back of his neck. "I know you're better at that kind of thing."

“Of course. It’s what I’m here for.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you darlin'.” Jake laughs and walks off towards the blue and pink flowering plants in sleek silver pots towards the door.

Ben eyes your boss up and down, watching how he turns away from the two of you but stays within earshot. “He wants to fuck you.” Ben says a little too loudly.

“What?” You whisper yell, dragging Ben away into the dense foliage on the other side of the shop. “Shut up he can hear you! And we’re just friends.”

“You’ve never heard about friends fucking? I mean if you and I started to-"

“Not going to happen. And we’re not friends!” You frown at him.

“I mean, I am living with you.” Ben crosses his hands over his chest and shrugs.

“You’re not living with me. How many times do I have to say that?”

“As many times as you want. I love the sound of your voice. I bet you could say some pretty kinky-“

Your eyes shift to a dangerous bright green, the entire room vibrating with energy as the plants begin to bend to your will.

“I know you think that using your powers is supposed to scare me, but I think it’s sexy when you do that.” Ben smirks. “Your eyes turn that gorgeous shade of green.”

“Please go away.”

“Fine. But he does want to fuck you.” Ben smirks. He cocks his head to the side examining you for a moment. "You want him to, don’t you Petals?”

"No I don't!”

I mean I could do a lot worse than Jake.

He was exactly what you were looking for. Someone sweet, who understood what love was, and actually cared for other people. He was smart and funny, and he loved plants almost as much as you did. He understood how important they were and how to take care of them. Not to mention he actually had feelings and knew how to express them, unlike the toddler standing in front of you.

You grab on to Ben’s arm and drag him further into the shop away from your boss to make sure that you’re no longer within earshot. “Contrary to whatever belief you have, not everyone is focused on sex all the time-“

“They are.”

“No they’re not. There are other things-“

“Like what?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Um.”

You honestly couldn’t think when Ben was standing so close to you, towering over you, staring at you with those bright green eyes that always seemed to consume you. Your eyes slide to a cork board filled with seed packets on the wall above his head.

“Like watermelon and blueberries and-“ You begin to say, reading the names.

“You’re just listing fruit sweetheart.” Ben chuckles under his breath. “You know what I think?”

“No and I don’t care.”

“I think you think about having sex with me.”

“What?” You shout louder than you should

“Mhmm." Ben traces his hand along your cheek, but you swat it away. "This morning you were awfully red when you bumped into me in the hallway. Not to mention in the kitchen when you were against the counter. Your heart was beating so fast. And I could practically smell how w-“

“Finish that sentence and lose your tongue.” You snarl grabbing the front of his shirt tightly in your hand.

“Doll I don’t think you want to rip my tongue out. Not with what I could do to you with it.”

You groan and withdraw your hand, fighting the urge to punch him. “Can you please leave? Don’t you have anyone else to sexually harass? Like Hughie maybe?”

“Hughie’s a guy?” Ben looks confused at your mention of Annie’s boyfriend.

“So? I kinda think you’re overcompensating for something by sleeping with that many women.”

Ben only laughs. "If you slept with me I'm sure that you'd see what all the fuss is about." He looks over through the walls of green leaves to where Jake is standing, watering a display of hydrangeas. Every few moments Jake would look over in your direction over his shoulder as if to check if you were okay. “How long have you worked here?”

"What does that have to do with anything?" You cross your arms over your chest confused.

Why does he care about that?

"Just answer the question doll-face."

"Two years."

"And you've liked him this whole time?" He cocks his eyebrow.

"No."

"You're worse than Mike doll."

"I am not."

"Mhmm."

"And I don't want him to sleep with me."

"Sure."

"Again, not everyone is focused on sex. And maybe you think that's the most important thing, but I'd rather have a relationship with someone." You turn to busy yourself with straightening the seed packets on the cork board, wishing that you weren't about to have this conversation with Soldier Boy of all people.

"So no sex?" Ben taunts.

You bite the inside of your cheek, transferring a packet of potato seeds back to the correct peg and reach for a packet of watermelon seeds to avoid eye contact.

I can't believe that I'm about to say this.

"I think that sex is better when you have a deep emotional connection with someone. Someone who cares about you, who sees every part of you, even the bad things and they don't care. I wouldn't expect you to give a fuck about any of that."

"I don't." He breezes and you can imagine just how carefree he looks. You could feel his breath on your neck reminding you of your position earlier today.

"Exactly." You roll your eyes. But deep down you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed with his confession and you hated that you were disappointed.

What? Did you think that he was going to change? That he was going to suddenly be the kind of guy you wanted after he practically forced his way onto your couch?

“You’re serious about him though? Looks like the kind of guy who would cry when he fucks you. You really want him instead of me?” Ben leans into the space next to you, trying to catch your eye, which you successfully avoid. "I mean, come on Petals, he's not even a supe."

"What?"

"He's-not-a-supe." Ben says it again, slowly like you're an idiot.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh please, you think that guy is the one? The one you've been waiting for? I've seen you in a fight and there's no way he could handle you. He couldn't even carry that fucking plant! If he tried to fuck you, you'd snap him in half."

Your cheeks flare an angry red that creeps back into your neck, and up your ears. "That is none of your business."

"It would be if you'd just let me fuck you. Show you what you've been missing." He cocks an eyebrow.

You fight the urge to slap the look off his face. “I can’t do this with you right now. I haven’t had my coffee.”

"He brought you some." Ben sing-songs, but you ignore him. "Fine. I’ve got to go anyway. Butcher wants me to meet him at some park in fucking Jersey.”

“You need me to write it down for you? Using your newfangled doohickey probably might be too much huh?” You turn and shake your phone for emphasis at him.

Ben rolls his eyes. “I think I’m capable of finding it.” He turns to go but stops glancing over his shoulder at you. “Are you gonna be at the apartment tonight?”

“What apartment? My apartment? The apartment that you're squatting in like a hobo?"

“No Butcher’s.” Ben glowers.

“I mean maybe?” You shrug. “I’ve still got to make a list of auto shops to visit this week. Butcher wants me to try to go to at least a dozen to see if I can get any leads on this guy.”

Ben nods once.

“Why?”

Why does he care?

“No reason. I’ll see you later Petals.” Ben smirks when he uses the nickname again, before turns once more and vanishes into the foliage that leads to the front of the shop. It was very difficult not to make the closet branch smack him in the back of the head as he did so. You hated that nickname about as much as he hated Gramps, but you knew that asking him not to call you that wouldn't do any good.

You make your way to the register at the back of the shop, feeling like you could finally breathe again. You hated how Ben wound you up so much, how angry and annoyed he made you. You hadn't met anyone else in your life that could do that to you and you liked to think that you were an easy going person, but not around him. He always knew exactly how to push all your buttons.

The memory of him pinning you to the counter earlier surfaces from the events of the morning, how his body seemed so strong above you, how he seemed to curve it protectively around you as he stood there waiting for you to tell him that it was okay for him to take the next step. The kiss from last night follows, how wonderful it was to lose yourself in him, how he tasted just a little bit like whiskey-

The hibiscus plant to the right of the register poofs into bloom, the bright red flowers unfurling and shining like beacons.

Shit. No. Get it together. Ben literally just said that he didn't think that emotions were important.

You glare at the plant until the flowers wilt back into submission, hoping that Jake couldn't see from where he was watering the hydrangeas.

That's the last conversation that you wanted to have today with your boss.

The coffee he got you is just how you like it and you’re reminded again that you deserve a relationship like that. Someone who remembers the little things, someone who cared about you, someone who was willing to hold your hair back when you threw up, not someone who annoyed you without end and the only emotions he ever expressed was anger or arousal.

“Your friend leave?” Jake asks. His clothes were flecked with water, hands just a little dirty, hair tousled just the right way to make him look like he'd just woken up.

It hit you again how different he was than Ben. Where Ben was ruggedly handsome, Jake was boyishly handsome and he had a younger less angry quality that made him seem lighter. You supposed that was because Ben had spent the last forty years in a Russian lab, but sometimes you liked that about him, not that he had been tortured obviously, but that he seemed real. He didn’t sugar coat things, he told it to you straight. Sometimes Jake was too happy.

No no no. I am not going to compare Ben to Jake, that's not going to happen.

“He’s not really my friend. He’s more of an annoyance.” You smile tightly, flicking your thumb against the cardboard coffee collar on the outside of the cup.

“Oh. I kinda thought he was your boyfriend.”

You spit out the coffee in your mouth. “What?”

“Well the way he was looking at you. And the way you guys were talking." Jake clears his throat embarrassed. "Sorry I didn't mean to assume that."

"It's alright. I'm sorry that he was rude to you. He's rude to everyone honestly."

It was the truth, Ben was always rude to everyone, though you didn't understand why he was rude to Jake. All Jake had done was try to shake his hand.

"How did you meet him?"

"Butcher."

Jake didn't know much about what you did for Butcher, only that you had another job on the side and he was your boss. Butcher had picked you up once from work to go on a case and Jake had caught a glimpse of him and had been confused as to why you knew someone like him.

"Ah." David nods in understanding. "He looks like Butcher's kind of guy."

"Yeah." You take another sip of coffee, shifting from foot to foot. "Thanks again for the coffee. I kinda needed it to deal with him."

"He was bothering you?"

"Only a little." You wave your free hand as if brushing away the thought.

"You should have said something, I could have thrown him out of the shop." Jake grins wide, leaning against the register.

The image of Jake trying to drag Ben out of the store was ridiculous. You doubted that Ben would go willingly, he hated backing down and you suspected that he would rather die than let another man throw him around. And the last thing you wanted to do was have to pull Ben off of Jake.

"It wasn't anything I couldn't handle. He's more bark than bite." You walk around the back of the desk to look at a box of lavender plants. They were in relatively good shape, a few brown spots, but nothing you couldn't fix when David wasn't looking.

"Sure." He is still leaning on the counter watching your fingertips stroke along the purple flowers. "Hey y/n?"

"Mhmm?" You sigh, inhaling the soothing smell.

"Um-" He bites the inside of his cheek. "Never mind. I'm gonna go start the Christmas Cactus display."

"Okay. I'll be in the back if you need me." You shrug, picking up the coffee Jake bought you and walking through the dark curtains that covered the doorway that lead into the back of the shop.

Your thoughts shift to how Ben acted around Jake, how he seemed to be an even bigger jerk, how Ben seemed to hate the idea of you and Jake together, and how Ben kept watching Jake like he wasn't sure about him.

Was he… jealous?

You gently touch the browning leaf of an African violet, feeling the fuzzy outer covering beneath your fingertip.

As if.

And as you stood there gazing at the plants that needed a little extra care, something else began to stir, something that you couldn't put your finger on, something that you felt when you were only around Ben, but you shake it off and clear your mind with the earthy smell of soil and the soft green leaves that needed your care.

“I can’t believe you let Soldier Boy sleep on your couch!” Annie exclaims before taking a bite of her sesame seed bagel.

The coffee shop was crowded for a Thursday afternoon, and although most came to Calamity Coffee Co for the Rocky Top frozen choco-molten mocha swirl , Annie had settled for a oat milk latte and watched you eat your Rocky Top with a spoon. It was making you feel better after the night you'd had.

People sat with their laptops along the long table that lined the front windows writing emails or the next Hunger Games, others lounged on the purple velvet sofa and high backed green armchairs by the decorative fire place chatting about a new movie in theaters that you'd seen a commercial for, and a man and a woman sat at the glass topped wrought iron table looking at their phones and not speaking.

I love what romance has come to these days.

“It was a moment of weakness.” You spoon another bite of the chocolatey frozen treat into your mouth still trying to forget exactly what happened last night when Ben kissed you in the hallway.

As if you were going to tell her that.

The rest of your shift at the shop had been uneventful. You fixed up most of the plants in the back and helped Jake make the new displays of cactus in the front while making small talk. He was going to a plant show this weekend and had invited you along, but you had declined, told him you had to work.

You did. Butcher had this crazy idea about sending you to different auto shops around the area where the supe had been jacking cars, to see if anyone knew anything about him.

It was getting harder to track him down, it would be easier if y'all could put a name to the face, but no one had seen him. Not even when he tried to fry you two days ago. He always wore a hoodie and pulled a dark scarf over the bottom of his face.

“So you did sleep with him!” Annie accuses.

“No I didn’t. He just slept on the couch and I slept with my door locked.” You reply, touching the vase of wildflowers in the center of the table to perk up the colorful blooms.

Annie's smile drops. “You thought he would try something?” It was something that she didn't joke about and she had reason not to.

When you found out what the Deep had done to her, she had to hold you back from marching up to Vought tower and implanting a watermelon in the Deep's stomach until he exploded. Something that you'd thought about trying with Ben when he really annoyed you.

“No not really.” You press your lips together. “Ben doesn’t really seem the type-“

“Oh so it’s Ben now.” She flutters her eyelashes and you kick her shin under the table.

“Shut up. It’s his name-“

“You never called him that before! You always just call him Gramps or the Bane of your existence.”

“He is the bane of my existence." You roll your eyes at her, leaning back in your chair.

He really is.

“Well the bane of your existence is kind of hot. You know for an older guy.” Annie shrugs.

“I can’t believe you’re saying that. You literally were gung ho for locking him away for all eternity or whatever.”

“I mean yeah he’s done some shitty things.” She takes a sip of her almond milk latte. “But it would have been a waste.”

She’s not lying.

You don't answer her, instead your mind shifts to how good Ben looked in a towel this morning, slightly damp from his shower. And then inevitably begins to dip back into the waterfall fantasy.

When Annie had told you that Soldier Boy was back, you had done the research, watched his movies, commercials, and music videos, read his file, and gazed at older pictures of him. Yes he was handsome, but something about the Ben who existed in the 21st century was better looking than all the rest. You didn't know why, just that you were crazy not to admit how good looking he was.

Maybe I've got issues and I'm attracted to the wrong type of man.

“Come on so you locked your door.” Annie nudges your leg under the table.

“Yep.” You avoid her eyes, because you knew as soon as you did you might let it fly that you wanted to sleep with him or rather that he'd kissed you so hard that you'd seen stars and it had only lasted eleven seconds.

Why do I know how long the kiss lasted?

“Why are you making that face?”

“This is my face Annie.”

“No no no. You’re making your suffer in silence face!”

“That’s not a thing.”

“What? Did you lock your door so you wouldn’t go out there?” She jokes with a snort.

You take another sip of your coffee.

“HOLY SHIT Y/N!” Annie's smile is almost too wide, as if she's discovered a new kind of chocolate that you can eat and never gain any weight.

I'd invest in that.

“What?”

“You wanted to sleep with him!”

She shouts it so loud that the people staring at their phones glance over to the two of you. Even a few of the writers on the long table under the window look back over their shoulders at you.

“Keep your voice down." You shush her. "Just because my body wants to doesn’t mean my mind does!”

It does. Who am I kidding?

“Uh-huh sure.”

You slump further in your chair, avoiding the gaze of the couples at the other tables looking at you. “Annie come on. You’ve known me since we were four. You almost blinded me when I took away your my little pony doll-“

She purses her lips. “I recall you making a tree rain acorns down on my head.”

“It was my doll.”

“It was mine! And I said that I wanted it back. You didn't have to have a tree do a reenactment of the ten plagues garden edition."

You hold up your hands in surrender not wanting to get into this fight again. “Whatever the case. You know me. You know that I always think stuff like this through-“

“Maybe you’re just thinking too much.” She sing songs.

“I can’t believe you’re for this. I’m not going to sleep with him.”

“Why not? You obviously want to.” Annie shrugs. "I mean I guess I'm not his number one fan, but maybe it will help get you out of a slump."

"What slump?"

"You haven't really been with a guy since Newton-" Annie begins to say, referencing your ex-boyfriend that you locked in a tree in high school. Because he deserved it.

"Because I never meet anyone that I'd want to sleep with. And yeah maybe I want to sleep with Ben, but he really just pushes my buttons and makes me crazy and-" You stop for a second considering your next words. “I don’t want that kind of relationship with someone. I want a relationship that means something. And I don’t think that sleeping with him is going to do that for me. He doesn’t want more than one night and I’m worth more and I want more.”

"You are worth more sweetie." Annie's hand covers yours where it rests on the table. "You just need to find someone who understands that."

"The only other single man in my life is Butcher and trust me I'm not going down that road." You bite the inside of your cheek thoughtfully. "I mean he is pretty hot in a rugged sort of way-"

"No." Annie squeezes your hand. "If God put me in your life to prevent you from dating William Fucking Butcher then so be it."

"Fine." You roll your eyes at her.

"And what are you talking about? What about Jake? He's cute and he likes you."

"He does not. We're just friends. And I don't know if I want to drag him into all this supe shit. It's not exactly easy."

Being with Jake will just complicate everything. He's my boss and he's not a supe. What if I accidentally killed him during sex? I don't think that I'd ever be able to get over that.

"Yeah. But maybe he'd be okay with it-"

"Like Newton was okay with it?" You raise an eyebrow, saying the name of your high school boyfriend for the first time since you'd locked him in a tree.

"He was an asshole. Not all non-supes are assholes."

"Just because you struck gold with Hughie does not mean that all non-supes are like that."

"You just have to broaden your horizons a little bit. Maybe you could try online dating."

"What like Tinder?"

"Fuck no." Annie groans. She raises the sesame seed bagel with a perfectly manicured hand to her mouth, reminding you that you probably should get your nails done. You hadn't done them since high school, because sometimes you thought it was a waste of money given how much time you spent with your hands thrust into potting soil.

"Because Ben seems to really like it. Has no problems working that app, I'll tell you that." You roll your eyes thinking about him again.

It was one of the first apps that he had downloaded on his phone by himself and one that he did not have any trouble navigating, given the parade of women that came through Butcher's apartment and the amount of nights Ben spent going on "dates." For a guy born so long ago, you noticed that he really didn't have any old fashioned values.

"You sure are focused on him."

"I am not." You glance down at your phone noting the time. "And are you going to spend our date mocking me about Ben the whole time?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“If you’re going to fuck him or not.”

“I’m not so let’s move on.” You sigh loudly, moving your hand as if ushering in the next topic.

“Well if things don’t work out with Mr. Blast From The Past, then you can always date Mike.” She sniggers.

“Oh I don’t think he’s going to be a problem-“ It slips before you meant it to.

Shit.

“What do you mean?” Annie perks up when you say that.

“Nothing.”

She punches you hard on the shoulder.

“Ow. Annie-“

“Tell me!” She punches you again.

“What are you the mob? You’re gonna keep punching me til I tell you?”

“Exactly.” Her small fist hits your shoulder one more time.

“Fine!” You avoid her next swing. “Mike came out of his apartment last night when Ben and I got in and Ben he-“ You bite the inside of your cheek to try and phrase it in a way that isn’t going to make Annie freak out.

Yeah there’s really no easy way to say this.

“He pretended to be my boyfriend.”

“He what?” Annie squeals.

“And he kissed me.” You mutter into your drink.

“He kissed you!?”

“Say it a little louder, I don’t think they heard you in Canada.”

She punches your shoulder.

“Ow, Annie! I told you what happened!” You rub your hand over your sore shoulder, which given Annie's enhanced strength was sure to have a bruise.

“That was for not mentioning it earlier! Because What the fuck?! You KISSED!?” You could practically see Annie mentally kicking her feet and giggling.

“Yes.”

“Was it good?!”

You pause. Fuck yeah it was.

You were trying to forget that. Forget how he held you, like you weren’t close enough, forget how he deepened the kiss as if he wanted to swallow you whole, forget how everything else in the world seemed to fade into shades of gray and kissing him was the only thing in color.

Damn it. This isn't going to end well.

A/N: Honestly thank you for all the love and support on this series. I know it's kinda slow going at the beginning, but I promise I have a plan for this one! :)

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd liked to be added to the Taglist please let me know :)

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