the sun looks good on you - solangelo

6- sun like

"are you alright?"

i've been turning my thoughts over and over again in my head. i was so buried in my mind that i didn't even hear him open the door and approach me. my head snaps up.

will is standing in front of me, his blue eyes full of concern. do i really look that miserable?

"i'm fine," i say shortly. it's not believable. even hearing myself, i winced at how dead i sounded.

"are you sick?"

"didn't sleep well."

"have you tried talking melatonin supplements?"

"no."

"i'll bring you some."

what's he playing at? are we friends now? are we on exchanging drugs terms now?

"okay,"

"do try to get more sleep."

"that's not really up to me," i say.

he is quiet. "well. i'll bring you some melatonin tomorrow."

there's someone behind him who is waiting for their order to be taken. will apologizes and moves to the side. he sits on a stool by the counter, close enough to still converse with me and watch me work. my cheeks and neck become hot as i feel his gaze burn through me.

what's he thinking while he's watching my movements? am i walking weird? can he see how my neck and ears burn? can he read my thoughts? can he see the hole in my chest?

"why do you work the night shift?" he questions as i pour coffee into a cup.

"i don't know." i shrug.

he's looking at me, i know. i know he knows that i know. i sigh.

"i prefer people at night. i think it brings out the best and worst in them. they're much more truthful. people are so agonizingly dull during the day." i say.

i can tell this isn't the answer he was expecting by the way he's staring at me wordlessly. i put the lid on the cup and call out the name. with no customers to distract me, i turn towards will.

"so why do you waste your time coming here every other night?" i asked. how much spare time could he possibly have? he's a medical student.

his fingers twist strands of golden hair as he thought. he's looking up, as if searching for the answer to my question in the heavens. "to talk to you and to hear you talk to me. where else would i hear thoughts like yours?"

i huffed as i cleaned the espresso machine. what a painfully cheesy answer. i wish i could tell him to get lost and to stop wasting his time. i wish i could tell him that it's hopeless to be close with me. but i don't because i enjoy it. i enjoy the attention and i enjoy feeling special. that's the most shameful part of it all. that i'm wasting his time because i enjoy it. it's selfish, even.

"i have to go, nico." will says quietly, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. hearing my name come from his lips twists my stomach as his fingers twists his hair. i glance at his sun-like face, but i can't stand to make eye contact with him for long. his eyes look so expectant, as if he was waiting for something. my words dry up in my throat.

"okay," i reply weakly like i always do.

he waves as he reaches for the door handle.

"have a good night, will." i say as he leaves. he catches my words as they tumble from my mouth.

he grins and his face lights up like the sun.

how does he do it?