The cool evening breeze outside was a refreshing slap in the face, and Kinich shivered once, tugging his hood down over his forehead. He had nowhere to go, nowhere he specifically wanted to be. But staying in his crappy, cramped apartment was out of the question.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and started to walk, aimlessly drifting with no destination in mind.

It was like muscle memory. Kinich found himself pausing in front of a café. It’s an unremarkable little thing stuck between a rundown convenience store and a boarded-up liquor store, but he’s been here many times before.

He recognized the place. It was the same one that Aether worked at, a part-time job the latter never failed to complain about.

He stood there for a while, contemplating whether to go in or not. Part of him was reluctant to disturb Aether; he didn't want to be a bother. But he was tired, cold, and more than that, he wanted to see him.

With a sigh, he pushed open the café door and entered. The café's atmosphere was cozy, dimly lit, and warm. Soft music played in the background, blending with the murmur of conversation of the few remaining customers.

Kinich spotted Aether instantly. He was standing behind the counter, a look of boredom etched on his face. He was wearing his uniform, a frilly pink apron, his blond hair tied up in a ponytail. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

Kinich made his way over to the counter and sat down on a stool. Aether didn't look up until he cleared his throat to get the latter's attention.

“You look awful.“ Kinich stated bluntly instead of a proper greeting.

[Full version: archiveofourown.org/works/61058332/chapters/160698010#workskin You can copy the full version, edit this greetings, and paste it.]