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Morris emerged from the kitchen to place two slices of strawberry shortcake on the table.
Strawberry shortcake… the delicacy with a recipe he took great pride in revamping. You can’t call it a dinner without a delicious dessert to go with Morris’ best-selling chowder, after all. It was the perfect way to end one’s day off, let alone a— Elio mentally steeled himself— a date.
But tonight probably didn’t count, since he never told Clark that it was one in the first place. So it’s safe to just call it a boys’ night out between two close friends, right? No big deal.
It’s not like Clark looks like the type to sweep Elio off his feet when his wings couldn’t. The type to keep him warm during cold nights when his coat couldn’t. Or the type to hold his hand even if it burned him.
It’s fine.
It’s perfectly fine.
Besides, Elio usually isn't one for romance, anyway.
The first sign comes and goes every Thursday, when Guatemalan coffee makes its way to the menu. Why? Well, the moment Clark found himself growing curious about Illaure’s Place, about Elio and what’s so different about him… it was on a Thursday.
The second sign was Clark growing out of just making Thursday visits, and dooming himself— er, becoming a regular customer. Charle, Morris, and Barbara saw how Clark’s growing attraction manifested itself in various forms— candid pictures of Elio, frequent orders of Guatemalan coffee, the nervousness in his face every time Charle lets the silver-haired barista handle Clark’s requests alone.
The third sign was Joan Hawke. The self-proclaimed matchmaker often came to visit after her pet bird’s appointments with the veterinarian. Not only did she ensure that Clark and Elio grew closer, but she also tried her hardest to rekindle Morris and Charle’s old relationship. Clark honestly couldn’t tell if his friendship with the woman was blessed or cursed.
(One cup of bitter coffee, made by Morris himself, was all it took for the food blogger to believe it was partly cursed. Elio made Clark another proper cup as an apology— “It’s on the house,” he reassured him.)
The fourth sign was the abundance of hot-coffee-related accidents Clark got into. He had Morris and Charle being the protective dad and the wingman dad (respectively) to thank for that.
The fifth sign was a sudden question— why did Elio serve Guatemalan coffee on Thursdays? It was Morris’ favourite roast, yes, but… there must be more to it than that. He was given ten minutes to figure it out, and as those minutes passed, he realized how similar Elio was to the coffee he served— the hidden sweetness behind the bitterness… it was a reflection of how the barista seemed cold, but was actually soft-hearted the entire time.
(Clark’s answer was that Elio was taken in on a Thursday, and the compliment he got from getting it right killed him on the inside.)
The sixth sign was the food blogger being there for Elio during the tumultuous times where his birth parents came into the picture— Clark venting to Maria about his visits to Solare Plaza, Clark working with Sophie in line with Elio’s disappearance and comeback as a barista, Clark even letting Elio stay with him once Shirley came back after years of hiding, Clark taking over for him after he unintentionally drank too much—
And the seventh sign? Well… he took Elio to the bookstore, the park, and the stalls Clark once promoted. He agreed to have dinner with Elio at Illaure’s Place, where Morris, Tica, Leah, Lio, Charle, and Barbara eagerly waited.
And now he’s sitting right in front of him, on this fateful Thursday night.
Morris silently watched the pair. All these signs of young love… it reminded him of his past all too well. While it was a stupid concept, it was still inevitable. As protective as he was, he grew out of it, decided he wouldn’t go as far as deny Elio of that experience. In his defense… from what he could observe, Clark was no bonobo. He was sure of that.
But if he wasn’t a monkey overall? Well, the jury’s still out on that one. He pulled out all the damn stops for this dinner. Clark better make sure it was worth it. They were even sitting at the very spot where Morris gave the food blogger the bitterest cup of coffee even known to a lazy man.
Morris swore: if Clark ever broke Elio’s heart, he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. He might even make it scalding hot just for him.
As Elio finished his slice, he recalled the dark red carnation Joan gave to him, and pulled it out of his bag, hidden from Clark. Her words rang in his head, crystal clear— Now is the perfect time to show him how you truly feel!
But instead of showing, the silver-haired barista found himself thinking. Everything came back to him in a moment’s notice.
Is he ready to throw caution to the wind and take that leap of faith, like his fathers had? Or have?
If his own limits were still lacking for paying homage to his fathers and the late barista Gotthold... If— if he wasn't destined to seek the truth, let alone get Theodore to look him in the eye and see him as more than just fake news...
Was he capable of romantic love? Of love that crossed bloodlines and familial bonds and everyday camaraderie? Of accepting Clark’s feelings with such a frail heart?
Hell, was he even worthy of it at all…?
He’s clearly thinking about it too much. He was on the peak of the mountain, and from what he can see, even Maria, a damn security robot, was a better shoulder to cry on than Elio could ever be. Clark’s visits and efforts in making things brighter for him were just out of friendship. Kindness paid back from a humble food blogger. That’s all there is to it. Nothing special.
…nothing special.
His pursed lips slowly went shut. Yeah. That’s what he thought. Serves him right for having feelings, for falling so hard that Joan now had competition when it came to it.
“…I’m tired. Shall we go back?”
Clark blinked, speechless for a second. If one were to look at him with a perspective that wasn’t Elio’s, there was a hint of disappointment in Clark’s eyes. Like it was a shame that it all had to end so soon.
“…Yeah. I suppose so. It’s been a long day. Let’s clean this up and give everyone our thanks.”
But Elio? He simply nodded, tucking the carnation in a novel Clark bought for him, squashed and forgotten. He’ll take these romantic notions with him to the grave. For Clark’s sake.
It’s fine.
It’s perfectly fine.
Besides, Elio usually isn't one for romance, anyway.
ticatoks: hey elio,,,, i know ur dad is gonna kill me for butting in too much and stuff, but i'm ur pal first and his target second （○｀ 3′○）
ticatoks: so... about earlier,,,
ticatoks: i didn’t notice it until i overheard barbara and lio earlier but now that they mentioned it,,, i know that look in your eyes! you're not just tired, are u? (｡•́︿•̀｡)
ticatoks: wanna talk about it? (๑´╹‸╹`๑)
ticatoks: or if u don't? wanna do that?? i found some things online for u (´◡`)
[Read 10:09pm]