When the Sky Turns Bright (Claudio Serafino x Reader)

Shopkeepers These Days

Resting in the sapphire-painted sky, the sun slashed in your eyes as you swung the glass door of the department store open. Ding. A small bell sung. A shop of the elder's.

Like the usual, the place smelt strange, like an elderly lady's perfume; sour and old. As you glanced at the young male shopkeeper who gave a friendly nod, ("Morning," he greeted casually.) your eyes began to roll in each direction; every section. The reason you were here you had forgotten for split second; it was that Italian man's birthday. What should I buy him? you thought wearily. I'm not even that close to him.

But do I want to unhand my feelings so quickly?

It never seemed to cross your mind what would interest him in a sort of romantic way. Roses? No, it seemed too elegant for somebody masculine like him. Chocolate? Too cliché. Sweets? Screw it. Something romantic wasn't going to cut it.

"Ah, jeez..." You shook your head in dismay and sighed. Made your way down an isle, scanning the shelves vigilantly. So eager you were to find something that you stared at each item for at least two seconds. A mind of a slug for the moment.

On the third row, something caught your eye. Rather, your eyes were drawn to it's colour. Red, as though savouring love. Meaningful.

Shin Cup Noodles.

You didn't even know why it felt like the right choice. As stupid as it sounds, seeing that spicy stuff would be cute. And anyways, it would have been better than rejection at its finest.

As you made your way to the counter, shaking like a hanging wire, you noticed how reluctant the keeper looked in comparison to your arrival. The glares he shot said no more than You didn't say anything to my good morning.

Quick aversion of eye contact. You patiently waited for him to finish scanning the food.

"Would you like a bag?" he asked dully.

"Um –"

    Ding.

Your head shot in the direction of the doorway. Frozen. Slick, styled dark hair. Slant eyes. Tall figure. And fancy white clothing. It was him. Claudio Serafino, the man whom you had just bought Shincup Noodles for. The powerful leader of a famous Excorism group. Oh, gosh. Why here? Why now?

Your heart began to thump wildly in your chest, to the throat as you watched him make his way towards you – no, the shopkeeper.

And he wasn't even done serving you.

"Cancel the selection," said Claudio in his deep, yet pure voice, leaning over the counter only a few centimetres away from you.

The salesman raised an eyebrow, clearly baffled. "Really, now? I would have thought..." A full conversation, which strangely enough you didn't pay attention to. You even wondered yourself why it didn't bother you thT such pleasure at rhe moment resulted in an awkward stance ... How could nobility have such perfection?

"Miss [y/surname]?"

You blinked.

For a moment or two, both you and Claudio had locked eyes with one another. At once, the world became irrelevant, as if only the two of you were allowed to breathe. And if only it hadn't been him here, you would have –

"Your receipt, you rude-ass hoe!" the shopkeeper yelled in his nasal voice, shoving the short piece of paper in your face.

Dumbfounded, your eyes automatically flickered back to Claudio, whose face was beginning to look even more irritated than the salesman's. He slowly rose from his resting pose, sneering down at the scrawny man.

Claudio nodded his head towards him. "You think it's nice to tell this innocent woman that she is a rude hoe?"

Now seemingly terrified out of his wits, the young man did nothing but stare in horror, his arm remaining out with the piece of paper.

"I was going to apologise to her for my inconvenience. However, this was urgent and you've just pissed me off. You don't stand a chance against her," Claudio continued. Which of course, was true. "You may have helped me in this situation but I advise you quit this job if you admire telling polite girls they are rude."

Gaping wide-eyed, the salesman finally tossed the receipt in your direction. It appeared that the work of Claudio simply stating the truth could paralyse him.

"My business here with you is done." Claudio smoothly ran a hand through his dark hair, and faced you.

    "Come."

Without hesitation and a word, you pursued him outside of the store. Cars cruised by and the sun again shone radiantly. Its glare bounced off his clothing, like it was purposely making Claudio like that of a god.

He shut the glass door carefully behind him. "I hope you're alright."

"Yes, thank you." Sweat hit the bag.

There was the moment of awkwardness in which you and the gentleman had met eyes again, incapable of turning away. Five seconds of heaven on earth. But only a glimpse of it.

"Well," Claudio started, his glowing eyes still setting on you, "I had better get going now. Pleasure, [y/n]." And with that he waved a hand, turning on his heel.

Was he really leaving already?

You heaved a great sigh. This was your only opportunity. Had it not been for your uncanny confidence in the moment, it would have been missed.

"Claudio!" you called, jogging after the man. While the heartbeat was sprinting.

Claudio dramatically quivered his head in your direction, only to find you holding the bag out toward him.

"Happy birthday," you said quickly. "Thanks for being nice to me and everything. And," you added, out of breath, "have a good one."

You noticed his lip curl slightly. Claudio took the bag. Didn't look inside of it. For the third time, his eyes stared vacantly at yours. "Thank you," his pure voice almost whispered.

Leaving him alone this time, you watched his figure reduce in size down the footpath of the sunny road, thinking that there would have never been a better chance to give him your gratitude.

    One thing, however, had held you back from complete kindess growing into him.

    He would be your opponent in less than a week.