Harlow sat with Ivan a bit longer, chatting about his frustrating day. "How's the hunt for a job going?" He asked Ivan, who had now finished the sandwich.
"Not great."
"Oh... that sucks." Harlow didn't know what to say, he had been in a similar position before but had never spent more than two nights at a time on the streets. "You know my couch is always free if you need it."
Ivan shook his head. "I don't want charity, man. It's enough that you bring me food. If I wanted a bed and a shower then I'd go to a shelter."
A chill ran down Harlow's back, the night was crisp and cold and no matter how large Ivan's duvet was it wouldn't protect him from the harsh wind. "I don't you to... die of exposure or anything."
Ivan chuckled dryly. "I won't, kid."
Harlow nodded slowly and then stood up. "Goodnight, I guess."
"I'll see you around, Harlow."
He walked away from Ivan, it was always a wake up call to be around him. A reminder that things could always be worse.
By now, the only illumination was by the light of lampposts that hadn't been broken. His building came into view. It was rundown and smelt of drains. The wallpaper peeled and the elevator was like a dingy metal death trap.
He walked down his corridor and could hear yelling coming out of one of the rooms, crashing coming from another and loud moans coming from the one right next to his. He scrunched his nose in disgust and walked into the humble apartment. Nothing but the bare necessities and some art supplies were in there.
Harlow didn't bother turning on the lights, it would only run up his electricity bill. He opened the door to his tiny room and lay out on the mattress, still wearing his clothes from the day that had been stained with grease and oil.
He felt his mind wondering what (Y/n) was doing but he quickly shook the thought away. 'Why can't I stop thinking about her..?'
Back to (Y/n), she sat in the café. Harlow had only just left after offering her a ride on his bike. She let out a large sigh and dabbed the napkin on her face again.
The cold water had certainly surprised her but it beats getting hit by him. The conversation had gone somehow worse and better than expected and had left (Y/n) hoping that his new therapist is good enough to deal with his drastic mood swings.
Just as she was about to take her leave, she heard a familiar voice.
"(Y/n)? Is that you?"
(Y/n) turned around to see Yvonne.
"Why are you so... wet?" Yvonne asked with concern.
"You missed the show." (Y/n) said with a small smile, making light of the situation. "My friend slash ex patient threw a glass of water at me, but we're cool now."
"Oh, the dramatic life you lead~" Yvonne cooed, taking a seat next to (Y/n). "I should really be working right now but...." She looked around the café, seeing her coworkers rushing about. "I'm sure they can handle it."
"How are things in terms of getting your manager to let you bake." (Y/n) remembered the tast of the sweet iced bun she had tried.
"Not great, actually. He said that they're not looking for another worker in the kitchen and they'd rather have my pretty face out here."
"That's fair enough-" (Y/n) stopped herself, realising she had indirectly called this woman pretty. She went bright red. "I- I mean, it's f-fair enough that they uh, they want, a um, that they want more people um serving."
Yvonne giggled at (Y/n)'s flustered rambling. "I was actually just kidding about the pretty part." The waitress crept her hand across the table to squeeze (Y/n)'s. "But you seem to agree."
"What are you t-talking about?" (Y/n) heart was going at a mile a minute and she could still feel heat in her cheeks, Yvonne's hand against her's certainly wasn't helping this condition.
"Say," Yvonne began. "I gave you my number and you didn't send me a text, I was going to invite you out with some of my friends but I couldn't."
"Oh sorry, I've just been a bit swamped. But maybe we can do it again?" (Y/n) offered.
"I'm clubbing with my friends a week today, you should come with. They're all super nice and I think you'd get along." Yvonne ventured.
(Y/n) gave a positive answer and took her phone out. "I'll text you now so I don't forget."
(Y/n: Whassup bitch?
Yvonne grinned at the text. "What a flattering nickname." She commented. Her smile then quickly faded and she bit the inside of her cheek.
"Hey, are you okay? Is this about me calling you a bitch? Because that was a joke-"
Yvonne laughed a little. "No, it's not that. I just, I have to ask." She sat up straight in the seat. "When you were here before with those twins and one of them was called Victor or Vince or something, you said that he wasn't your boyfriend. Right?"
"Yeah... why do you ask?" (Y/n) rubbed the back of her neck.
"I just want to make sure I'm not stepping on anyone's toes." Yvonne concluded.
(Y/n) knew what she meant, the two of them had been flirting both of the times they'd seen each other, but she wasn't going to show that. "Why would you be stepping on anyone's toes?"
The smile returned to Yvonne's face. "I think you know why~" She rose from her seat. "I should get back to work."
YOU ARE READING
something more ((yandere x reader))
Random(m. yanderes x f. reader) (complete) (Y/n) was working her dream job as a clinical therapist. After one of her best friends went away for a year, she swamped herself with work to keep her mind off of his much missed presence. He'd always been clingy...
