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Was it simply luck that caused me to take the long route to the lunch room, or was it boredom?
That was a pretty good question, one that I still dawn on to this day. But on that specific day, I don't know why the hell I'd ever take the long way to the break room, especially when I had mission reports piling on my desk I was to proofread, summarize, then fill out an entire form following those tasks. There were at least twenty reports to look over, the numbers rising gradually. With the Omnic rebellion started only days ago, it was a wonder why mission reports weren't coming in every ten minutes, only one every couple of hours.
The entire scenario had me stressed out, and my thoughts were swarming in my head like bees. Maybe I took the long route to sort out my mind, to walk off all my anxiety and impatience. Of course, this day was long in the past, my feelings were long forgotten, yet the exchange burned into my mind.
There were still several halls I had to pass through, but I was stopped several ways away from my destination. Turning a corner, I'd nearly ran directly into a hurried figure.
"O-Oh," I looked up, the familiar face of a Blackwatch agent, though their name at the time had slipped my mind. "My bad, sorry to be in your way."
I went to move past the man, clad in an intimidating black attire, a black hat seeming to complete the outfit. As I moved, he'd hastily and silently moved to the same side. This carried on for several moments, the irritation on his face growing increasingly more pronounced.
Finally, the man before me had heaved out a heavy sigh, ceasing his movements as he narrowed his dark eyes at me. "I ain't playin', kid." He'd muttered lowly, causing shivers to run down my spine at the rather eerie tone his voice carried.
Suddenly, his expression softened considerably, and he regarded me less sharply as he did before. "You're one of Jack's," He noted thoughtfully, and I tilted my head thoughtfully.
"You mean mister Morison?" I questioned, earning a curt nod of the man's head. "I-I, well, I'm his assistant, if that's what you're implying."
The man hadn't spoken again immediately, eyes examining the walls above us as he shifted the cigar between his lips thoughtfully. As if a light had gone off in his head, his eyes connected with mine lightning fast, a smirk gracing his rugged looking features.
"So, what're you working on now?" He decided on asking, moving out of my way and staying by my side.
I stared up at the man for several moments, eyes as wide as dinner plates. The rise of his brow was enough of an indication, and I began talking rather quickly as we continued on the walk I'd been on to the lunch room.
"W-Well," I began, "I just recently handed in the completed report provided by agent Tracer, as well as a form indicating that I'd proofread and added any and all facts she missed in-"
"Wait, hol' up." The man raised a hand, letting out a chuckle, "I didn't mean work wise, I meant where're we headed?"
It took me awhile to fully digest what he'd just said, face scrunched up in confusion. Finally, my mouth opened in a small 'o', I lit up in shock. "O-Oh," I managed, "You want to get coffee with me?"
"'Course," The man stated, "Don't bother with the coffee here, it's pure water. I know a pretty good place not too far if you don't mind?"
I looked up at the smile he'd directed at me, jaw still slack, trying to process what had just happened. "I-I don't even know your name."
"Jesse McCree," He introduced himself with a tip of his hat, which vaguely reminded me of a cowboy's now that I'd thought about it. "And I never caught yours, either."
"W-Well," I'd let the ghost of a smile reach my face, "I'm (First Name) (Last Name), it's a pleasure to meet you, mister McCree."
"Just Jesse is fine, thanks darlin'."
I decided to get my reader's more engaged, I'd add little questions at the end of each part.
