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Considering his upbringing, working in a coffee shop was not something Edmond thought he would experience—but here he is, already in his fifth month and actually quite enjoying it, unlike his previous jobs.
There is something therapeutic about people from all walks of life sharing the same space and listening to the same faint jazz music in the background, about the opportunity to prepare the perfect drink for someone who needs a little pick-me-up.
Different customers mean different experiences, and while Edmond is interested in the stories he would sometimes overhear, nothing grabs his attention as much as one specific customer does.
A man with long, red hair reminiscent of a blazing fire.
Edmond first saw him on his first day of work, when he had bumped into him after taking out the trash and the man grabbed his arm to prevent him from falling. The cool touch made him shiver, but it didn’t feel important as they locked gazes, Edmond seeing his own reflection tinted in brown and blue. Even with the limited lighting, the beauty of his wide, heterochromatic eyes couldn’t be ignored.
The man opened his mouth, but he snapped it shut and removed his hold when Edmond’s manager called his name out. After a quick apology, Edmond rushed back inside, leaving the stranger in the back alley.
But even without that quite memorable first meeting, Edmond is positive that he wouldn’t forget him; his co-workers and the other regulars wouldn’t forget him either, for that matter.
The customer is always wearing layers over layers, gaining him weird looks as his choice of clothing persists even when summer has started. No matter how scorching hot it is out there, he’s consistent—always ordering a hot drink, always covered up. Masks, scarves, long sleeves, gloves. Sometimes a blazer, sometimes a jacket.
It is peculiar, but Edmond doesn’t comment on it, and neither does everyone else. Whether it’s out of courtesy—as in Edmond’s case—or whether it’s because of the intimidating aura the man exudes, everyone tries to not stare whenever he stays in the corner of the shop, on a seat that almost has his name on it what with his stay almost the entire day during weekdays.
That aside, Edmond finds him pleasing to talk with, one of the more eloquent customers they have ever had. His desire to talk with him more strengthens after he caught him reading his favorite book, but they are both too busy to go beyond the short pleasantries whenever he’s taking or giving him his order.
(“Would you like to have your usual with the double shot of espresso?”
“Yes… No, hold a moment. I think it’ll be better to make it triple.”
“Understood. Will that be all?”
“Any food you would recommend?”
“Ah! These pastries over here. I personally like the—”)
Working in a coffee shop has never been in Edmond’s plans, just like how he didn’t expect to be in debt before even attending college, but it’s peaceful despite its busy days. It’s the relaxation he does need once in a while.
Fate does like playing games with Edmond, it seems.
The supposedly peaceful coffee shop is attacked.
It’s a small group of bandits, three men who chickened out after seeing the heavily-armed guards in the bank down the street. Instead of giving up, they have decided they can’t go back to wherever they’re from without showing off their ill-gotten weapons first, and the shop looks like an easy target—according to their monologues anyway.
The broom Edmond is holding right at that moment had never been more helpful.
He easily knocks out the first two with swift blows to the head, cutting their maniacal laughter short. When he looks for the third guy, he hesitates for a moment upon seeing him approach the customer with red hair before springing into action and throwing the broom. The bandit drops his knife with a yelp, his body immediately joining his weapon on the floor after a well-placed chop on the neck.
Edmond wipes a bead of sweat rolling down his temple and adjusts his ponytail, slightly panting as he watches the customer stand up and flip his own long hair with a huff. Before he can open his mouth to ask him if he’s unharmed, a group of men in suits barges into the shop, and Edmond’s finger twitches as he debates on picking up the broom since the customer doesn’t move a muscle even when the men surround him—
Why are they surrounding him?
“You are all useless.”
Edmond blinks.
“You lot are the ones who insisted on accompanying me,” the customer says, enunciating each word slowly, “and yet, you had the gall to frolic around? How did you not notice the neon signs above these thieves’ heads?”
The men flinch, their fear rolling in waves. It’s understandable; despite not having any (visible) weapon on him, the customer is more fearsome than the guns and knives trained on them earlier.
Another man in a suit arrives, the others making a path for him, and he dips his head when he’s in front of the redhead. He looks young, the formal suit out of place on his small frame.
“Forgive me, Sir Dante,” the newcomer says. “I take responsibility for them.”
The customer—Dante?—scoffs, crossing his arms. “You need not always cover for them, Gyro.”
Where did he hear these names before? Dante, Gryo…
Oh.
Edmond’s eyes widen as everything clicks.
They’re from Solaria.
Solaria was a company that was on the verge of collapse, but after a sudden change in its management just a little over a year ago, it has become one of the most successful companies in the country.
It was in the news everywhere. The new president was apparently a young man, even younger than Edmond, but he never showed himself in public. People mostly just know of his name—and the secretary that appears in his stead, one who looked like he’s in his teens yet is said to have capabilities that can rival the heads of other bigger companies.
Dante and Gryro.
What are they doing in this unremarkable coffee shop?
Or, perhaps, because it is unremarkable…
As if sensing his thoughts, Dante turns his intense gaze toward him, and Edmond resists the urge to take a step back.
“I understand this may be inappropriate to ask of you considering the place and time,” Dante says, “but I believe your abilities can be better used somewhere else.”
Edmond furrows his brows. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“Be my personal bodyguard. I will assure you better pay.”
Before Edmond can form a coherent thought, the head of Solaria continues, “You need not provide me with an answer now, and I will not hold it against you if you decide to refuse—”
“I will do it,” Edmond says. He briefly wonders if he should apologize for cutting him off, but Dante doesn’t seem to mind. He even lets out a pleased hum, handing him a business card and telling him to call after his shift.
Reminds him to give the manager his resignation letter too as he walks out of the shop with his men—and the bandits on their shoulders—scurrying after him.
Was I too eager in answering? Edmond thinks as he uses the same broom to clean up the mess left behind.
Then, he shakes his head, ignoring the eyes he can feel boring into him. No, it’s fine. I won’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers. I will take whatever I can.
Dante has raised a brow when he sees Edmond’s familiarity with suits, but he doesn’t question it. When Dante persuaded him to eat alongside him in a high-class restaurant, he doesn’t comment on Edmond’s impeccable table manners either.
Edmond appreciates it, but he won’t be surprised if it’s simply because he doesn’t need to ask since it’s not unlikely that the Solaria President has done a background check on him; he probably already knows that Edmond came from money until his parents died and left him with an uncle, who later on leaves him as well but not without a mountain of debt.
There are things Edmond does not agree with in the way Dante handles things, but he’s in no position to tell him what to do, so he holds it in even if it meant biting his tongue whenever he hears the absurd proposals during meetings. But aside from that, Edmond is content; the work itself is fairly easy, and just as he thought, Dante is pleasing to talk with after they have found common interests such as, surprisingly enough, cooking.
It’s immediately clear that Dante doesn’t like working in the office, having only dropped by twice during that month, not because he doesn’t care about the company, but rather, the complete opposite.
Dante understands that he can be intimidating, and he doesn’t want to hinder the employees’ performance by making it seem like he’s always breathing down their necks. He doesn’t seem to be fond of gatherings and leisure, and while he doesn’t forbid others to do so, he knows joining them during drinks will not be a positive experience for everyone.
But despite his strong presence, Edmond’s position as a bodyguard lets him witness moments where the President is quite… endearing, for lack of a better term.
Such as when they went back to the coffee shop and Edmond’s previous manager has been passive-aggressive in serving him, clearly not amused but can’t outright complain. The hesitance in his body language, the chopped sentences that fall past his lips—Dante doesn’t know how to act when being treated like so.
It’s not really even an issue since Edmond has left properly (and despite his glares, his manager understands he needs the higher pay), but Dante decides to never return to the shop again. He sets up a workspace in his condo that is too big for a single person and an orange spotted cat, something that he apparently has been meaning to do long ago but kept postponing.
An espresso machine and other equipment enough to start a small coffee stand are added to the condo, as per Gyro’s idea. This way, you don’t need to go out since Edmond can prepare your coffee, he says.
Dante says it’s not part of his job, but if that is the case, he can just add it to Edmond’s official work responsibilities. Edmond makes sure to tell him that, and it has taken a little more convincing, but Dante relents in the end.
Edmond finally feels like the ridiculous salary he’s getting is not too much; it is indeed worth two jobs.
Somehow, before Edmond has even hit his two-month mark working for Dante, they begin to live together.
Once again, it was Gyro’s idea.
It does make sense. Guarding someone will be easier if they’re staying in the same place, and Edmond doesn’t have to travel at ungodly hours just so he can prepare Dante’s morning coffee before he wakes up. Edmond agrees, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Despite having his own room, one that is as big as his entire previous apartment unit, Edmond often stays in the living room where he has the best view of the entrance and the doors to Dante’s room and workspace. It’s also where Sooley, Dante’s cat, likes to sleep—before, on the couch alongside Edmond, and now, on his lap.
As he strokes the soft fur, Edmond realizes he has gotten along better with Sooley than his owner.
Edmond has never thought Dante to be a cat person, but there are several other things confusing about the Solaria head anyway. Why a small cat? What really happened to his parents? Why is he still wearing layers of clothing in his own home? What does he not want to show everyone, show Edmond?
These are questions Edmond would never ask aloud anyway. He doesn’t need to know anything else about Dante… aside from the time he falls asleep.
After staying with him for three months, one spent living together, it became clear that Dante follows a certain pattern. He sleeps and wakes up at the same time every day, he prefers bitter drinks on Thursdays, and he doesn’t leave his room once he’s done for the night even when Edmond accidentally dropped a mug one time, likely dead asleep.
And that’s why Edmond is currently in the dim room that serves as Dante’s office, a few hours after Dante has gone back to his room.
The light coming from the laptop is almost blinding, but Edmond doesn’t take his eyes off the screen. Watching the progress bar. Waiting for the files to be copied to the flash drive.
Wondering if all this is really still necessary.
He worked in the coffee shop because he needed the money to pay for the debt his uncle left behind, and it was plain as a pikestaff that he will accept the better offer from Dante. It turned out to truly be a good decision; when the loansharks found out, they said they will be more than happy to call his entire debt off if he gives them a copy of Solaria’s files.
Edmond agreed then, thinking that it shouldn’t matter to such a big company anyway, but seeing firsthand the efforts Dante made and is still making for Solaria to be the big company it is…
Paying his debts off on his own seems plausible now with his salary as a bodyguard, but it will still take years. Compared to the instant he was promised…
But the trust Dante has given him, this place…
Even though he doesn’t deserve it…
He’s still second-guessing everything even as the window disappears, even as he grabs the flash drive and turns the laptop off, even as puts on his coat and hat. Even as he walks out the door with no intention of returning.
Even when he arrives at the meeting place, a warehouse by the dock. The perfect cliché.
The men who used to always knock on his door are present, their leader right in front of them. Javier is not a big man, but the way he stares has always made Edmond feel small, and today is no different.
“Hey, Ed! You got me the files, right?” Javier throws his hand out, palm facing the night sky devoid of stars. “Good job! Now hand it over.”
It’s a power play, the fact that he wants Edmond to make the move, to be the one to approach. And for the previous years, Edmond did; he was always the one taking the steps forward to hand him his hard-earned money.
Edmond doesn’t take the step.
Maybe today is different, after all.
“Eh?” The casual tone and tilted head contradict the deadly glint in Javier’s eyes. “Why are you hesitating?”
Edmond clutches the flash drive in his coat pocket tightly. A scene flashes in his mind, of a quiet night when he has heard the same words, was asked the same question, and yet—
(“Edmond. Why are you hesitating?”
“…Sir?”
“I’ve told you to drop that. Simply call me by my name.
“Um…”
“And it’s clear that you are more than capable. You speak multiple languages, do you not? I also noticed you paid attention to the details during the meeting. If you saw something amiss, you should’ve said it.”
“I believe Gryo would catch it too, had he been present today.”
“That, I agree with. But he is not, and you are.”
“I, I’m just your bodyguard…”
A scoff. “And I suppose you believe Gyro is ‘just’ a secretary?”
Silence.
“Indeed, I originally asked you to be my personal guard, but I did not say that will be your sole personality. I did not say that is all you would be. You have seen how Solaria work; opportunities are provided to those who deserve them. So, again, I ask you this: why are you hesitating to present your best self?”)
Edmond takes a deep breath, pushing the flash drive deeper into his pocket. “No.”
“We didn’t need to make this difficult,” Javier says with a sigh, nodding at his men. “I’ll just take it by force then.”
The self-defense lessons his father made him take are still engrained in Edmond’s body, and fortunately, the five men charging at him all didn’t take out their guns, instead simply shouting as if it will give them a boost in strength.
Having a makeshift weapon like a broom would be most beneficial, if not his own gun from Dante that he has left behind, but Edmond can manage. It’s clear the men have no actual fighting experience anyway, just using their sheer numbers to overpower their usual opponents, but Edmond believes he is not like their usual.
He is more than capable.
It’s only a kick on his stomach that makes him stagger after swiftly taking out a few men, but he immediately regains his balance and ducks to avoid the fist aiming for his face, body moving instinctively. He hits the man with a kick of his own, using the momentum to spin and tackle another to the ground.
Someone comes up behind him, his hair standing on end as he sees a flash of silver from the corner of his eye. He won’t have enough time to dodge—
BANG!
The pain Edmond expects doesn’t come.
Instead, there’s a thud behind him, and he turns to see the man lying on the ground, blood slowly pooling on the floor. The gun he almost used to shoot Edmond lies a few meters away, which is then picked up by—
Dante.
Dante’s here.
The head of Solaria walks toward Edmond, wearing his usual layered business clothes, the gun in his hand still producing white smoke. He exudes confidence in each step, passing one of his men the guns in his hand before crouching down in front of him.
“Good job,” Dante says, raising a hand to pat Edmond on the head.
Edmond knits his brows, eyes stinging, the flash drive in his pocket feeling like lead. “How…?”
Around them, a one-sided fight continues, Dante’s men easily subduing their opponents.
“I’m not a heavy sleeper, and you are not exactly subtle,” Dante says as if a single sentence is enough explanation—and it is. “I was waiting to see what actions you would take.”
Foolish. That’s what Edmond is.
“I’m truly sorry,” Edmond says, head hung low. Even though he knows it’s not enough, an apology is all he can give right now.
“It’s fine.” A gloved finger is placed under Edmond’s chin, tilting his head up. But instead of surprise, like the first time they were this close, or the more understandable anger, Dante’s mismatched eyes are… sparkling with amusement? “I also have my reasons.”
If the fight is finished, Edmond doesn’t really know; he can’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears, and everything else becomes a blur. Only Dante’s figure as he stands up and offers his hand is in clear view, the smirk gracing his sharp features shining brighter than the moon above.
Dante opens his mouth to form the words, “Let’s go home.”
Or maybe it’s just Edmond’s wishful thinking. The blood rushing in his ears is still too loud.
Still, Edmond grabs his hand.
When they arrive in Dante’s condo, Edmond keeps his back straight as he follows him, the proper posture his late mother drilled into him. Dante says it’s fine, that his betrayal is fine, but Edmond can’t help but be apprehensive.
This is the same man that called his men useless (even though they admittedly were) a few months ago, the same man that easily turned a deal to his favor with words alone yesterday. The same man that saved Edmond just a few minutes ago.
Wordlessly, they cross the living room where Sooley continues to sleep, climb up the stairs, and enter Dante’s bedroom.
Edmond swallows as the silence stretches on, staring at Dante’s back. What does he…?
“I cannot feel warmth,” Dante says after a while.
Edmond’s anxiety disappears, making way for confusion. “Warmth?”
Instead of giving him a reply, Dante takes his coat off, the long-sleeved polo joining it on the floor right after. Edmond flushes, about to turn away, but Dante finally faces him, and something white grabs his attention.
When Dante takes his tank top off, Edmond finds himself unable to avert his gaze from Dante’s body anymore.
…Tattoos?
Around Dante’s chest, arms, and wrists are intricate symbols; mainly composed of triangles and arrows. The white ink stands out on Dante’s tanned skin, the markings somehow inexplicably reminding Edmond of solar eclipses. Of oases and dunes.
“I was born without the ability to feel warmth,” Dante explains as he takes his gloves off, staring at his fingers also decorated with symbols. “These marks are supposed to make me… normal, to no avail. But when we touched, even just briefly, I felt it.”
Dante lifts his head and stares him straight in the eye. “I felt the heat of your skin.”
Edmond instantly remembers it, the first and only time their bare skins touched, the cool touch that made him shiver. Dante wasn’t wearing gloves that night, but isn’t this all ridiculous?
He has no reason to lie though, and it would explain some things…
“So that’s why you looked surprised,” Edmond settles on saying.
Dante nods. “I knew then that you should be by my side, but I did not want to force you. I wanted you to stay with me of your own volition.”
It seems that they both had ulterior motives, but Dante’s declaration sounds like…
Ridiculous, Edmond thinks, inwardly shaking his head. I am the one being ridiculous, thinking like that.
Dante’s grin almost distracts him from hearing his next words. “You do want to stay.”
Edmond thinks he should be surprised to realize he does, but he isn’t; the flash drive still in his pocket a sufficient evidence. But to say it out loud—
“Shall I force you, then?” Dante asks in a knowing tone as he takes a step forward. “I have been nice to you, and yet, you went behind my back.”
Another step. “To atone for your betrayal, stay with me.”
“I…” Edmond bites his lip. “I still have a debt to pay.”
“You still think of them even after that?” Dante scoffs. “Well, no matter. I will pay for your uncle’s debt. Considering how much you will owe me, you need to stay with me for the rest of your life.”
Edmond flushes. “T-that’s—!”
“I meant as my bodyguard,” Dante says, taking another step right into Edmond’s space. He tucks his hair behind his ear before cupping his face, making Edmond’s breath hitch. Cold. “Though I’m not ashamed to admit that I hope it would be as something else, too.”
Edmond steps back, and Dante stares at him as his hand falls, different emotions flashing in his eyes too fast to decipher.
Noticing the shivers Dante tries to suppress, Edmond clears his throat and says, “I shall prepare you a warm drink. Would tea be okay?”
“…That’s appreciated,” Dante gruffs, leaning down to pick up his clothes.
“Please head to the living room after you change to more comfortable clothing. I shall bring your tea there.” Edmond spins on his heel and says in a rush, “A-and I wouldn’t mind sharing body heat if you need it.”
A pause.
Then, “Are you offering to cuddle on the couch?”
“I shall prepare your tea!” Edmond announces as he rushes to the kitchen. Behind him, there is booming laughter, a beautiful sound he hears for the first time.
He didn’t say ‘no’ because he is offering if Dante needs his warmth, but did he have to say cuddle—?!
Edmond feels his face heat up, but the cool sensation on his cheek lingers.