On Days Like These ❀ Undertale /On Break/

Chapter Fourteen ❀ Quiet Day

     "What happened to your hands?"

     "Burnt them." You reply simply, tying your apron around your waist. Mason raises a thick brow, his inquisitive grey eyes unconvinced with your short snippet of information.

     "Okay, I burnt them while cooking." You admit quickly, uncomfortable under his stare. Mason is only a few years older than you, with sharp features and hair so thick he has to gel it back. He's attractive if you're being honest with yourself, yet he's never come across as anything other than an older brother for you. And you're pretty sure he feels the same about you. As far as you're aware, he doesn't have any sisters to call his own, and so takes joy in treating you like one.

     "Seriously? I thought you said you were going to be more careful after last time!"

     "I was! Honest! I went out and bought a fire extinguisher and everything."

     He rolls his eyes and bumps past you playfully as he leaves the back room to start your shift. "You're magical, y'know that?"

     "I wish."

     Sliding in behind the bar, the two of you banter about as you wait for the first customers of the night to appear. You don't usually get anyone till seven or eight, giving you a good hour to set up the bar and clean. Normally you take lead in cleaning, darting about between the pretty glass tables and wiping them over; plumping up cushions and so forth. Mason isn't agile enough for that, and you both joke over that fact constantly. It's much faster if you do the cleaning, and it's not like you don't get enough practice at home.

     The door to the lounge is opened, and you raise your head to see who the first customer is.

     It's a man in a crisp, black suit. His hair is styled with gel, and you can smell the strong scent of his cologne from all the way on the other side of the room.

     Your eyes discreetly wander up and down his figure, intrigued by this well-dressed customer. It's not his clothes or appearance that interest you, but the fact that he'd entered without a companion. Usually, men of this standing have a woman or two hanging from their arms. But this guy is completely alone. You don't get many solitary drinkers at the Paper Crown.

     He wanders over to the bar, not taking notice of you in the corner wiping over a table. His attention is on the bar, perusing its alcoholic options. He looks like a whiskey kind of man to you.

     "Evenin'," Mason nods to him, stepping up to take his order, "what can I get for you?"

     "JD and coke, no ice."

     You silently revel in your win.

     "You new to the Paper Crown?" Mason asks as he sets about making the drink, sliding the Jack Daniels from the shelf.

     "Yeah, a friend recommended it. I needed a drink after the day I've had."

     Your co-worker quirks a brow, "rough day at work?" He guesses.

     "Yup."

     There's a long pause as he takes a heavy gulp from his glass, and then spots you.

     He flashes a grin and a nod, to which you quickly return, hoping he hadn't realised you'd been staring.

     Quickly finishing up with the tables, you return the cleaning supplies to their cupboard and move in beside Mason, busying yourself with rearranging a few gin bottles.

     "What's your name?"

     You get a nudge from Mason, and realise the question was for you.

     "Oh, I'm Y/n." You say, turning around to smile politely.

      "Matthew." He reaches a hand out over the bar, and you shake it. Mason discreetly wiggles his eyebrows at you, to which you ignore.

     Matthew doesn't stay long, and leaves after the usual rush of customers start filing in. He does, however, mention that he'll be back again, having taken a liking to your little lounge.

     Pulling on your coats at the end of your shifts, Mason comments that it's you he likes, and not the lounge.

     "Hush, stop talking." You grin stupidly, patting his face with your burnt hand. "I don't know anything about him."

     "So? Doesn't stop you from being attracted to him. You're allowed to like a guy for his looks y'know?"

     He moves your hand away and takes it in his own. You're both at that high that comes with sleep deprivation, your legs and arms aching from six hours stood up serving drinks.

     He runs a finger gently over the waxy red of your burn marks, eyes half-lidded.

     "You really need to take better care of yourself. You're too sweet to have such manly scars."

     You chuckle, patting his cheek with your free hand. "And you worry too much."

     "Do I?"

     "Yes. It's good for me to get roughed up a little. It's character building."

     He gives you an unimpressed look, and you shrug.

     Parting ways in the car park, you split off towards your cars, fumbling about in your purse for the keys.

     It's dark out, and you're distracted, so it's perfectly normal for you to miss the obvious abnormality to your usually pristine ride.

     You freeze up once you spot it, and twirl around to release a slur of curses, anger bubbling in your chest and fighting up your throat.

     "For fuck's sake!"

     You tuck your hair behind an ear as you lean forward to get a better view of the garish dent in the sedan's passenger door. It's a huge dip in the metal, discoloured from the rest of the silver paintwork.

     "Shit."

     You run a hand along the indentation just to make sure it's not a trick of your tired eyes or an illusion of the night.

     It must have happened while you were working, and what's worse, the security cameras don't even cover this section of the lot, so they wouldn't have picked up what car did this.

     Damn. And you liked your sedan as well.

     Since it's not the place nor time for you to be worrying over your bruised car, you begrudgingly slide into the driver's seat and start up the engine, driving out of the car park.

     You'll have to see about getting it fixed another day.