Big Book Of Ridgephos One Shots

Ordinarily Extraordinary (S)

TW: Fluff and Slight angst 

~Chapter One:

Sitting by the fountain in the centre of the park that is nestled in amongst the towering skyscrapers that look like great shards of glass reaching towards the clouds, sits a bench. To most people it is a very unremarkable bench. It is wooden, and plain, a wrought iron frame filled with planks of smooth wood. It sits there, by the fountain in the park, every day, watching as the busy inhabitants of the city walk past, or jog past or even hold hands and sit on the edge of the fountain. It watches the sun come up and the moon go down, seasons pass, years fly by. Occasionally someone sits on it. Unremarkable. Just like every other park bench.

Wednesday, 26th of October

Xephos pulled his scarf up a little higher and hid his nose in it, before driving his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He walked slowly compared to some of the other people hurrying along the cracked path, admiring the vibrant colours that filled the park, piles of orange and yellow leaves sitting atop the frosted grass, hints of lush green poking out from underneath its thin white blanket, all sitting beneath a crisp blue sky. The chilly breeze nipped at his exposed skin, dancing over his nose and ears, but it didn't bother him. Here, outside of stuffy boardrooms and cramped offices, it was peaceful, every sound hushed and quiet. He paused and listened to the burble of the icy water in the fountain, the faint tweeting of birds, the pounding of joggers feet along the pavement. He nodded to a few people before branching off of the main path, stepping back a bit before stopping in front of his favourite park bench, the one that was never too warm or too cold, that had the perfect view over the bare limbed trees framing the fountain, the one that he could easily walk too in five minutes from the office. He settled down on the aged wood, a slight smile gracing his lips as he breathed out and relaxed, tension seeping out of his shoulders as he sat on the park bench, warm inside his thick coat. The doctors had been right, he had been getting far to stressed with work, as proven by the stomach ulcer that had set him back a few months ago. They had told him to take some time every day to relax, before the stress built up and he did some serious damage to himself, that he was far too young to have been admitted into hospital, and he should be out enjoying his life, instead of shortening it in meeting after meeting. The yoga hadn't worked, his long limbs too gangly to contort into the shapes they were meant to, and he'd given up on learning the piano after it only made him even more stressed. He had tried everything to calm down, only succeeding in winding himself up more and more until his boss had finally told him to take the day off and do something, anything, to relax. He had found himself lost, unused to having so much time and no schedule to follow, so he took a walk. It was how he had found this little park, found the perfect park bench, worked out that he could easily walk here in 5 minutes from the office, that was five there and 5 back, 10 minutes, with a 20 minute stay, 30 minutes, so could he please have half an hour off every morning if that wasn't too much trouble? His boss had complied happily, glad he had finally found something that he enjoyed and could actually take away from the stress that built up every day.

Xeph loved his job, he really did. It was his life, and all his friends were a part of the office. Besides he enjoyed solitude more than cramming himself into sweaty nightclubs, prefered reading a good book by the fire to getting smashed off his face until he didn't even know his own name. His mother had always told him he was different, wise beyond his years. His schools had always told him he was a workaholic, and a perfectionist, and he'd get far in life. He supposed they were both right. Maybe there was such a thing as fate. It still made him 25, single, and a bit odd to most people. What could he say? He loved his work.

His phone buzzed in his pocket alerting him to the fact his 20 minutes was over and he huffed slightly, fiddling with the screen for a moment before standing and making the journey back to the office, shoes scuffing slightly as he made his way back along the path, leaving the colours of autumn behind for the dull greys of the concrete jungle he called home, and for the first time in a long while he felt reluctant to go.