Random Stories by Mercyy

Ōoka BSD oc 2

It was a cold afternoon.

Ōoka's delicate hands were frozen, and she slid her sleeve below her palm to cover her cold, thin fingers. It didn't really work.

Besides her, Chuuya's breathing drew little clouds in the air, like wiggling, ghastly smoke. His ocean eyes were lazily fixed on the lilac horizon, hands entirely on his pockets. He seemed to be full of thoughts. Ōoka couldn't guess none.

They stood next to a French restaurant facing to Yokohama's port, waiting for Chuuya's ex-partner that now belonged to the Armed Detective Agency. Ōoka had seen the waiter looking at them some times hesitatingly, probably debating whether or not he should ask the two scary-looking mafia members if they wanted a table. With the back of her eye, he caught him talking to an elegant woman, who, Ōoka guessed, was the hostess of the restaurant. They discussed something for some instants while glancing at them, and then the woman approached Ōoka and Chuuya with her high heels tapping on the tiled floor.

"Good afternoon", she greeted, smiling kindly. Her gentle smile created a few wrinkles close to her eyes, and she had a lot of make up on. Her face reminded Ōoka of a doll's, "Does the couple want a table for two?"

Ōoka's eyes widened and she covered her face with her mask to hide her pink cheeks, just as Chuuya jumped to deny what the woman had just said as he frenetically shook his head and waved his gloved hands.

"We are NOT a couple!" he yelled, and Ōoka could kind of see his flustered face behind his fancy hat. She held back a giggle. "And we don't need a table! We're just waiting for someone."

"Oh, okay. Sorry for the misunderstanding!", the lady said just before going back into the restaurant again.

"Jeez, people these days...", the executive shook his head, palm covering his eyes. He eyed his pocket watch, "Dammit, why is this bastard taking so long? We're going to be late."

Author's note: ohmygod, this was such a good idea. I FORGOT WHAT IT WAS T^T. Why am I like this.