Interruption
Jan. 24th, 2019 05:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nyanderenekoSummary: It’s nothing more than a short interruption, but to both of them, even exchanges like these feel monumental.
*Author’s Note*: First proper original fic I’m posting on this page! I’ve been…all over the place lately. Emotionally, physically, mentally, just…ugh. I made a New Year’s Resolution to give some more attention to my lesser known—and lesser interacted with—F/Os in my fics this year…and proceeded to careen away from that option like an off-course comet orz idk if I’ll change my tune any time soon, but for now my main 3 make me really happy, and I’m going to focus on that happiness while I can. ANYWAY, long intro to say: this is a Mordecai piece, I wrote another small one like this to try and inspire myself to write more Mordecai stuff, and even if it ends up not working, I’m glad I was able to do these two and the New Year’s one at least. I hope you enjoy!
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“I hope I’m not interrupting…”
Her voice was quiet, a little timid, but compared to the silence it was rather loud. She didn’t quite know what had possessed her to come here in the first place…well, she was thinking of him. She always thought of him, generally at the most inopportune of times; and she was sure every time could be classified as an inconvenient one. He didn’t need someone like her worrying about him or trying to be considerate of him. He did just fine on his own. But somehow, that success only made her want to do more for him…it made her want to ease his burden, even just a little. Head bent over his desk, eyes scanning the documents before him with hawk-like focus, pencil moving only when necessary to carry out the task he was absorbed in. Alone in this tiny office, it was hard to see what she was doing as anything but disruptive. She started to think that coming here had been an insensitive, bad idea. Sooner than expected, she received a reply that confirmed her worries.“If you’re just here to bother me, please quit while you’re ahead.”
His voice was as sharp as the knives he used to carry out his other job. Right now, his harsh words managed to stab her just as effectively. Her hands started trembling and the surface of the liquid in the cups she was currently holding formed ripples in response. She’d gone through the trouble to make this…even if he didn’t want to hear her talk, she wanted to leave him with her offering. Maybe after she’d left, once her presence had faded from his mind, he’d look up to find the cup sitting on his desk. Maybe he’d be grateful to whoever it was that had left it there, assuming he’d already scrubbed this exchange from his mind. She was used to that, though, and didn’t expect anything more. Just knowing he was happy was enough for her…or at least as happy as he could be.
Finally raising his eyes from his work, his ears fell a bit when he realized who he’d addressed. “Wait, I’m sorry. I thought…you were someone else. I don’t mind if you come in.”
She was a little confused but decided not to push her luck. If she tried to get him to talk about something unpleasant, it could end up actually making him feel more unpleasant just by being forced to think of it. He had enough dreary thoughts and memories of his own…generated by his past, and his present, and probably even the prospect of his future. She hoped there were at least one or two good things that still managed to exist despite the darkness.
The establishment that employed them was practically a living example of such a metaphor; a rare star amidst a sea of ever-expanding night. Approaching the desk, she set one of the steaming cups of tea down for him. He’d never told her how he liked his prepared, nor asked her to do it for him on any occasion, but (although she may have been embarrassed to admit it) she’d watched him fix his own plenty of times. Enough that she’d memorized his routine, although she could only hope she’d gotten the portion sizes of the various additives correct.
“This is a bit unexpected,” he commented as he drew the cup closer. “What’s the occasion?”
“It’s just another weekday,” she answered simply, glancing over the forms strewn about the desk. They were so complicated, and no doubt convoluted, encoded to some extent due to the classified nature of their information. They were the kind of papers she’d come to recognize all too well, considering her history, and the seemingly inevitable trajectory of her life. “But I thought you might like a cup. Since I was already making one for myself, I took the liberty of making you one, too.”
Thoughtful…Is what he, well, thought. But he was a bit too flustered by her kindness to figure out how to properly word his gratitude.
“Going out of your way like this was unnecessary.”
She chuckled a bit, although she knew it probably seemed rude. In his own way, this was him thanking her. But he was bad at thanking people, because he usually didn’t have to, or flat out didn’t want to. The fact that he was trying meant a lot to her…and, to a certain extent, she found it quite cute. The moment that realization crossed her mind, she became just as nervous as he had. Thoughts like that weren’t wise or beneficial, especially in their line of work…but she had them all the same. And of course, she’d been having them for what would probably be considered an inappropriate amount of time. She couldn’t bring herself to block them out entirely…couldn’t stop them from coming up in the first place.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to it,” Nova bid him farewell as she turned to the door with her own cup still in hand. “Don’t work too hard, you’ll make yourself sick.”
I’d probably deserve it. Mordecai thought, shaking the foolish observation from his head. He wanted to give her a parting thank you, but his words still wouldn’t cooperate. With a sigh, he followed her advice and dove back into his task. The same thing every day, sprinkled in with jobs that required a little more elbow grease in the form of split blood…the red he marked these books with was a similar shade.
He tried not to let his mind soak in thoughts that would stain; instead, he preferred to dwell on the unanticipated guest that had dropped in on him, caring enough to bring him something he actually liked. There were few things in this world he did like, so doing that at all was a rare feat. And the more he contemplated it, the more he realized he might have actually liked that she was the one that came in the first place, regardless of the accompanying circumstances. There was the tiniest possibility that he may have just liked…seeing her.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-01-26 10:08 pm (UTC)"He’d never told her how he liked his prepared ... [but] she’d watched him fix his own plenty of times." This is so sweet also orz
"He tried not to let his mind soak in thoughts that would stain..." also a good line, I wish I'd thought of it.
Mordecai a good boy
(no subject)
Date: 2019-01-27 03:12 pm (UTC)