Ace of Spades

Chapter 16: Pretty Flowers & Stressed Days

Atticus decided walking to the small coffee shop on the side of the road was the best option, he wanted a chance to clear his mind as it was still fogged up from his earlier interaction with Bray. On one hand, he couldn't understand why the man was acting so childish, but on the other hand he recognized that he didn't truly know how far Bray's feelings went. Bray and him never really had that type of talk, so he was working with a pretty thin string.

Before his thoughts can stray too far into unknown territory, he gets distracted by a bush filled with pink orchids. They brought his thoughts back to Bray—pretty, yet high maintenance—he felt a light tug at the corner of his lips. He briefly wonders if it would be too much to pluck a few, who knows, maybe Bray would like them.

His thoughts moved off Bray himself for a second, and more towards Bray's hair. Soft, blue strands—he remembers the feel of them from when he brushed his fingers through them a couple of nights ago. He remembers the way Bray let out a content sigh, before flushing a deep crimson and looking down at his fidgeting feet. He loved that sound, the airy tune brushing against his ears like the wisp of wind that he felt as he walked down the street.

Then he wondered, what would these orchids look like decorated in his hair? Atticus doubted Bray would be up for that, but he wondered what effect it would have on the overall picture. Would it soften his features? Would it be a vast contrast against his pale skin? Atticus was sure that the paintings would come to life with this new addition.

He ran his thick and calloused fingers across the delicate flowers, and it reminded him of when he would lay lingering touches on Bray's skin when he would adjust his body. He lowered his fingers down to the stems and plucked a few out at one time. He didn't want to take too many, he felt like taking too many would disturb the peace they had going on. So, he took 4 or 5 and stored them in his pocket, praying that their pretty petals wouldn't get crushed during his walk.

Before he could pluck anymore, he heard a bell go off near him. He looked up and realized he was standing right in front of his destination; he puffed his cheeks out in annoyance for not noticing in the first place. He gets so stuck in his head sometimes that he doesn't pay attention to his surroundings, something his father always used to scold him for when he was younger.

Before he could dwell on it too much, he walked his way into the café and stood in line in order to get himself a drink. He looked up at the menu hanging close to the top of the ceiling as his thoughts drifted towards Jace. Jace seemed like the type of person to like fruity boba, Atticus wasn't sure why he thought that—but he had a feeling. He decided to go with his hunch and order passion fruit juice with tapioca pearls nestled at the bottom. If Jace didn't like it, he could always order him something else.

Once he sat down with the regular black coffee and passion fruit juice, he leaned back in the small café chair and stretched his sore muscles. The chairs in café were always too small to fit all of Atticus' mass, something he was slightly annoyed by when he was younger. In his older years he found amusement in it, imagining what he looked like to the outside eye. Some overgrown man trying to fit into a tea-cup sized chair fit for children and love-sick teenagers.

He listened to the generic pop music that softly played from the hidden speakers all over the café as he fiddled with a loose napkin. After a while he started getting a bit antsy, how long has he been sitting here for? He checked his phone and realized he has been waiting for a good 30 minutes. That's odd, but then he figured that maybe Jace had ran into some traffic. He did set up that meeting after all, he wouldn't be late, right? Wrong. Atticus sat there for an extra 30 minutes before his phone lit up with an incoming phone call. The churchgoers in his older hometown always used to say, "speak of the devil and he shall appear," he guessed they weren't always wrong.