Mine or Yours or Ours

[Carter Chevalier]

Carter was taking a break. With time off from college, he had the minutes to spare; the attuned frequency about his days. He still wasn't used to having time to spend on nothing in particular. It felt odd for a Chevalier to be able to do nothing for the majority of the day, so he rarely took that time. So far he'd been spending afternoons at the Hammel institute for various reasons. Some days he'd be there to ensure his brother was on track with his graduation, but it seemed as if the Australian he was so close to was working with him towards the same goal. Other times he solely went to see Karalie, the girl he grew to miss so strangely within small amounts of time apart.

But there, he was on his own. A place he usually frequented in company was now completely singular. It wasn't far to travel for a decent hit of caffeine, though given what he was used to he'd hardly call it decent.

Aside from the counter, the blonde was waiting on his own, hands in his pockets as he seemed relatively disinterested in the world around him. Just a standard latte. It was all he ordered. No syrups and no sugars. So when the simple order got called out, he rocked forward on his feet and immediately reached out. That was, until another person reached for the single take away cup too.

"Oh," He dropped the sound without a thought, his hand reeling back slowly as he followed the nearby arm to the person who owned it. "Is that yours?"

[Deleted]

Oriel didn’t have the same luxury as Carter. While his days were once full of idle hours to do nothing with but nap atop a tree and hassle the people down below in incessant obscenities, currently he hardly had a minute for himself to simply relax and enjoy the joys of doing absolutely nothing.

Classes were done for the day, and it was the beginning of the busy season down at the Globe Theater. Oriel didn’t do much there, but even gophers were needed to pull off the big productions the little troupes liked to put on. Yes, yes, even ushers were needed, because who else was going to escort that frail, little old lady out to her seat and direct the directionally challenged to the double-A seating when they got lost in the single-As? As such, Oriel was swanked out in his swanky, dweeby uniform that made him look like he was in a 3rd rate show-choir or was a flamboyant wannabe talk-show host, or maybe even a burger flipping specialist that was just a little too overdressed for the grill.

He was on his way to work, and as much of a lazy asshole he was, he was a punctual little ass and so had left with more than enough time to stop at the coffee shop between here and there and nab a little pick me up. Oriel had ordered something. Something-or-other latte or something. It had the word ‘latte’ in it. And thanks to his wonderfully selective hearing, Oriel found himself only listening for that one word and therefore quickly assumed it was his own drink.

How he didn’t see that blindingly blonde head of hair was beyond him, but it was there nonetheless, as was the person beneath it. The person who had reached out to the cup at the same time as Oriel.

Oriel pulled back as well, uttering out a muffled “sorry” that he immediately wished to take back once he saw who was attached to that hand. Oriel blanched at the sight of the Mr. Carter Stick-in-the-mud Chevalier standing beside him. He recoiled from the man with an irritated grunt and stuffed his hands in his pockets, keeping his eyes locked away. “It’s fine, whatever, it’s yours.” He’d just get another one or something.