Chapter Text
John passed a hand in his freshly washed hair to allow the snow that had accumulated on top of his head to fall on the ground. A thin layer of this iced water had covered the city this morning, a reminder Christmas was approaching, it brought a soft smile to the worker lips.
Once inside the small shop, he has been working at for the last few months, he removed his coat, hung it, and slipped into his work shoes. The interior was charming, decorated with numerous photos and wood-toned paintings and a handful of strategically placed greenery. It all together created a warm and inviting atmosphere.
“Good morning, McTavish. Always so early.” A man spoke as softly as his deep voice allowed it from across the room. The owner of the small coffee was standing next to his office, admiring a picture of an old dog.
“Better early than late, eh?” John answered with a grin as he put on his light brown apron.
The older man uttered a small “hm” in acknowledgement before retreating behind his office door which was nicely decorated with his last name, Price.
Price rarely spoke more than necessary, keeping conversations as short as possible and avoiding all personal matters. Soap respected that in a way, sometimes its better not to get others in your business. It didn’t stop him from getting curious, tho. His days were mostly filled with silence, apart from the few costumers that came in around rush hour, so his mind always wondered where it apparently shouldn’t.
It wasn’t his fault, really, the shop was brimming with treasures of the man’s life, each wall ornament teasing a story. How could he NOT need to know more.
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Once all counters cleaned and coffee machines turned on, John happily sat at his favorite table near a window facing the street. After admiring the peaceful white view it provided, he opened his book previously placed on dark brown the table in front of him. This book told the story of a man ready to do the worse in hopes to venge his murdered family. Each page described a vividly detailed scene more violent and horrendous than the previous. The author must have done a tone of research to get this level or accuracy on human anatomy which only made it more impressive to Soap’s eyes. You could almost believe he lived these moments himself.
The owner didn’t seem to share his liking for the book however, he always chuckled to himself when he saw his young employe reading it. Maybe he didn’t like the idea of someone enjoying such violence when he lived it himself. Who could blame him.
Just as he got to the truly disgusting part of his favorite chapter someone knocked quite violently on the shop’s front door, demanding to be let inside. With a racing heart soap violently threw his book to the side and checked the ticking clock near the door. Had he missed the opening time?
He hadn’t, thank god. The lady must have the wrong time.
“Good morning, ma’am!” he said cheerfully. “I’m sorry I unfortunately can’t let you in yet we don’t open for the next 20 minutes.”
Well, she didn’t like this answer. In fact, she wasn’t interested in anything John had to say from that moment on, all she wanted was to have her hot coffee served immediately. No matter how many times he attempted to resonate with her she kept screaming. Clearly not caring if the whole town could hear her.
Nothing seemed to calm her down, not even when he eventually handed her the order and offered a generous discount in the hopes it would soother her frustration. It didn’t. She left half an hour later still complaininga. What a way to ruin such a perfect snowy day.
Today was particularly slow, not that he minded of course. After serving the few costumers that came in around 10 and cleaning up his workspace once again john got back to his spot near the window.
Book in hand, he stared at the dark cover, deep in thoughts already. He had finished this book at least 5 times now and it still brought him the same delicious feeling of disgust he was always chasing. How he wished he could know the author’s real name to find more of his work. This series was published under a nickname, Ghost, probably to keep his friends and family from finding out how fucked up in the brain he is. Some parts of these books can really make you question his sanity, make you wonder who in their right mind would willingly write this much body horror with this level of details for fun.
Soap paused and chuckled under his breath. Probably the same type people who read them.
He found himself wondering how this author was, what inspired him and what he looked like even. The boy had been reading these books for years, the first one being published when he was 12. He basically grew up with these things, surely it was natural for him to have these questions.
“Still reading the same book McTavish?” a deep voice spoke loudly behind him. Soap was so absorbed in his lecture he nearly jumped out of his skin at the comment.
“You scared me sir.” Soap answered with a light chuckle, still trying to come back to himself. “Yes, it’s the fifth of the series and the last one published. One usually comes out every year and a half, but it’s been almost 3 with this one I’m getting impatient.” He said while turning his head slightly to the side to look at his superior in the eyes.
And there it was, this amused smile back on his lips. It never failed to appear when his interest in darker themes was mentioned.
Price place a hand of the young man’s shoulder and squeezed it, exchanging a knowing smile. The thing was, soap didn’t know. He didn’t understand what there was to know.
“I’m sure it’s coming soon, son, I got a feeling” And with that he was gone, as fast and as he arrived.
That was strange. More than usual at least.
The confused man answered his ringing phone instead of getting caught up in questions he knew would remain unanswered.
It was his friend and coworker Kyle calling, asking soap to cover his shift again. He agreed to it, of course but not without promising to kick the other’s ass of he begged for another favor this week.
Soap wasn’t too mad about it, while closing shifts tended to be busier and more demanding than opening ones he found consolation in the chance to treat himself to the shop’s delicious pastries when he got hungry.
“You’re taking his shift again? Do you ever go home?” Price asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Soap laughed and assured him he isn’t over working himself for the sake of his friend’s fun and went back behind the counter to take the order of the young women waiting.
Time went by fast, it was already nearing closing time and soap was sat in silence, reading again. He must’ve been really absorbed in his book, enough that he only noticed the tall figure staring at him from across the room when he set it down to look at the time.
A man looking like he never left his vampire phase.
“oh god I hope you haven’t been here for long, I didn’t hear you come in at all. Can get you anything?” soap asked a bit embarrassed.
The man seemed frozen in place, staring deep into the worker’s soul.
After a second too long to soap’s liking the tall shadow in front of him spoke. “I’m here to see john.”
“Eeh that would be me, do I know you?”
“Johnathan Price, kid.” He specified almost coldly. Oh. Yea that makes more sense.
Maybe they were old friends or something. Would explain the weird behavior. Old reserved men attract more old reserved men.. at least this one was cute.