Chapter Text
“Again?” Chris Redfield’s voice was surprisingly loud in the break room, his presence taking up more than anyone else as he looked over your shoulder to the cup on the counter.
“Again.” Your hand had found the clearly bought cup of fresh coffee that had been brought in and deposited next to the coffee pot that was still bubbling with the fresh morning brew. It was one of the pricey cups from the coffee shop you knew by name down the street. One of your favorite places to visit on the mornings you had time, you had found recently in the past few weeks that your time had been cut to closer corners the more you were required in the field. Reports had to be filled and filed while S.T.A.R.S. were taking to the fields. A recent uptake in activity in the street that required their specific talents had left the other remaining officers scrambling behind them to pick up the slack. You had been on the force for little over four years now, having joined right out of the academy and screened within two and a half years to take up a K9 officer position. The youngest in the precinct. While you weren’t aiming to make a name for yourself or climb up to be the new Chief whenever the current one retires, you had managed to impress a few people with your dedication. You weren’t afraid of the early or late hours, even pulling lengthier shifts than normal just to make up for any lost time. Rarely did you take a sick day and rarely did you ever fall behind in your duties.
“Again?” Jill Valentine asked from the doorway and you sighed, picking up the drink to sniff in the aroma. Hazelnut, like you had expected.
“Again.” Chris answered and you slouched into the counter top.
“No note or anything?” Jill asked and you shrugged.
“Nothing.”
Despite your performance, you didn’t think you deserved a free cup of coffee with your name signed on the cup every morning.
It had started almost three weeks prior to this occurrence. You had spoken to namely Chris about not getting a chance to stop by that little shop you always enjoyed stopping by, knowing that you had extra reports to catch up on after overcoming the flu. You hadn’t been keeping your voice down, tucked into the open area of the station between moments of grabbing a stale cup of coffee from the pot in the break room and walking back to your desk with Chris had caught you. The very next morning, a cup had appeared not on your desk, but by the coffee pot. One that went untouched until you found it. You had though it was Chris at first as that made the most sense, however Chris had denied it. Then Jill. Then slowly, everyone you could have thought continued to deny it.
‘Someone is lying.’ Crossed your mind a handful of times. You even showed up early one morning shift, before Chris or the others would have shuffled in just to find the coffee already waiting. That should have limited it down, but you were so caught off-guard by the early arrival you didn’t bother to look at who had arrived. And now you had just grown used to it. Chris watched as you gingerly sipped on the drink.
“It’s sweeter than the last one.” Chris reached for the pot as Jill held out her hand to you. When you offered the drink to her she took her own sip, a habit you both had developed since the fourth drink. It was possibly curiosity from her side or she just needed that sip of coffee in the morning before getting started, but you didn’t care. She made a small noise as passed the drink back to you.
“It’s heavy on the cream.” You nodded in agreement. Chris stirred sugar into his coffee and shifted to the side as another officer filed in to pick up the pot. You didn’t want to complain about the free drink, but you had to agree. It was very thick on the tongue, almost too sweat to the taste. You tried another sip and wrinkled up your nose once more.
“It’s too heavy.” But you would drink it, like you did every day. Jill checked the time before she sighed, soft and reserved.
“Be sure to tell me when you get a love note one day.” Jill said as she turned to leave. “I’m sure it’ll come any day with Valentine’s coming up.”
“I’m sure.” You didn’t sound committed to the thought at all, just swirled your drink and watched as others filed in. Chris remained at your side for a moment longer, then he looked to the clock with his own deep, drawn out sigh.
“I shouldn’t keep the Captain waiting. I’m sure he’s just looking for another reason to drag me through another desk cleaning.”
“I’m sure he is.” He elbowed you slightly at your sarcastic response and grinned over his own drink.
“Be sure to tell me when your secret admirer finally gets your order right.” You didn’t acknowledge him further before he left and you followed shortly after when the crowd of officers waiting for their turn at a cup of caffeine filled the room. It took some shoving before you found your way out of the room and into the hall and you were thankful you abandoned the room when you did. The rest of the station was slowly filling with life, phones ringing and night shift slowly changing over to day. You smiled politely to those you passed, only occasionally muttering a good morning to them as you shuffled your way over to the kennels to greet your companion; Karma.
Lunch brought with it a new surprise; a new coffee.
This was the first time you had gotten a new coffee before the next shift started and you came back to find it sitting on your desk instead of in the break room. Your first coffee, although too sweet to you, had been swallowed down within the first hour. The morning had been filled with several calls, several bookings, and several stacks of paperwork to be filed through the system. Then there were the breaks to go check on Karma, insuring he was fine while being held in the kennels in the station; where the dogs often spent their hours when they weren’t out on a call. When lunch came you knew you were going to hit the field afterwards to do rounds until the evening, so you had happily taken your lunch in the privacy of your own vehicle. You only returned to your desk to close out of your computer for the evening and make sure you had everything you needed when you spotted the new cup.
You just stared.
‘It has to be Chris.’ There was no way it wasn’t at this point. You could just bet it was him. He and Jill were the only ones you complained about your too sweet coffee to this morning, if it wasn’t him then it was Jill and you had no reason to believe she would do that. Unless she was in on it with Chris. She could leave it to him to convince her to get in on something like this. At least it was a harmless prank if anything. You picked the coffee cup up slowly, like you were expecting Chris to jump out from behind the desk and yell ‘gotcha’ before you examined it in the usual way. You sniffed it first, scenting that familiar hazelnut that had become a staple in it a few mornings prior. Then you tasted it with a gentle sip.
It wasn’t as sweet.
You didn’t hesitate as you turned to approach the break room you just knew Chris or Jill would be in trying to heat up leftovers. You guess was mostly right. Barry Burton had found his way in there, heating up the leftover pasta he had brought with him from the previous night. The polite smile he offered up came with an amused grin at the drink in your hand.
“Another drink?”
“So you’ve heard?” You asked. The microwave went off and he pulled the plate out as you propped up against the counter. It was similar to how the morning had started and you wanted to laugh that you ended up here twice over the same ongoing incident.
“Chris can’t keep his mouth shut over it.” You suspicion must have shown, because Barry held up the hand with a fork in it in surrender. “He finds it funny, but he says he has nothin’ to do with it.”
“Really?” You narrowed your eyes and Barry nodded.
“Really.”
“Well, shit.”
And there went your best guess. Barry watched as you visibly deflated while he poked and prodded with his fork at the noodles. When you didn’t continue the conversation, he did.
“Got a clue who it could be?” You frowned.
“Well, you just knocked my only clue down the drain, so currently no.” Barry laughed at that and slurped down another bite of his pasta. You just slumped further and debated if Barry could be in on it too. You doubted it, though. It seemed as though Barry was just a bystander, one of many it seems, who found amusement at your expense. At least it was harmless to everyone except the wallet of the person who continued to purchase for you. You knew these coffees couldn’t be very cheap, especially considering you now got a second in one day.
‘They heard me.’ You also realized. It had to have been someone who was in the break room this morning, but with Chris and Jill out of the count you weren’t so sure anymore. There had been an endless stream of officers coming and going so there was no telling who it could have been. You hadn’t exactly been looking around with the expectation that your secret admirer had been watching you enjoy the coffee. Though, the suspicion that they could have been watching you every morning wasn’t something you couldn’t put past them. Especially in such a crowded station. But one thing that you couldn’t begin to understand was why they didn’t just bring it to you in person. The station wasn’t small, since it was Raccoon City’s main station after all, but there were only a handful of people you interact with on a day to day bases. And an even smaller group that you would consider a possibility for such a thing. With Valentine’s coming up, you were expecting a number or another name or something on the cup at any point, a hint at something to tell you just who had been gifting you these drinks.
Nothing.
“Maybe it’s someone on Bravo.” Barry said after the silence dragged on. You scoffed, but you knew you couldn’t dismiss the idea. While you interacted with Alpha more than Bravo, you still have your fair share of run-ins with them during the odd hours you sometimes stayed over. You’ve shared a few conversations around the coffee pot with Dewey whenever you’ve had to pull the occasional double. He was sweet enough, though you didn’t think you had connected in that way that would call for him to constantly buy you coffee. That and you didn’t think it was in his personality to just hide behind the ominously appearing drinks.
“Maybe.” You sipped from the drink in question and sighed. “Whoever it is has to know what I like.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“Chris.” Barry laughed a little then.
“Captain has had him too busy to give him a chance to buy anyone anything. Not that I doubt he wouldn’t do it, I also think he’s a bit…” He motioned with his fork for a moment as though you would understand by that. You couldn’t help your smile, somewhat understanding.
“I’d thought so.” Chris had his sights on someone else, at least from what you and Barry could agree on. So…who? A sound went off on the pager at Barry’s hip and he snatched it up, tapping on it before groaning. He shoved the fork back into the bowl and offered it out to you. You cocked a brow but took it.
“Short break?”
“Captain’s orders; seems we’re heading out.” He tapped the edge of the tupper ware you held. “Just leave it in the fridge next chance you get, I’ll get it from you later.”
Your thanks was lost as he quickly vacated the break room and you just sighed.
There went your lead.
At least you got free food from it, knowing Barry’s cooking held hidden skills to it. Still, you had to leave to your own vehicle and start the next five hours of field work for the day, driving rounds through the streets while keeping your eyes peeled. So, you tried to carefully cover it up and hold it and the coffee and you exited the break room. Only a few other officers were in the halls as you started past them, nodding in greeting to you as some continued talking or on their ways. You were almost to the hub of the station, where it seemed the most activity was taking place, when disaster struck.
You bumped into someone.
Namely, you bumped into Captain Wesker.
While you’ve had interactions with Alpha and Bravo in the past, you had somehow managed to avoid most interactions with the Captain himself of S.T.A.R.S.. He always seemed busy with whatever S.T.A.R.S. required of him in his office or in the field himself. Being in charge of such an important sector had to keep him busy, or that’s what you thought. You’ve spoken to him before, usually in the halls or if you had to report something to the man as a messenger between him and another person. He was polite enough if not stiff, though you hadn’t lingered around to try and make conversation. The horror stories Chris had told you about the man’s personality kept you at bay of attempting any personal conversation with the man let alone trying to approach him outside of a professional setting.
Even if he was a bit attractive to look at.
However, the attractiveness wouldn’t take away from the spilled coffee that now stained the right side of his dark uniform pants. When you had bumped into him he had been leaving his office, completely strapped in his dark blue and black uniform while strapping the bullet proof vest into place. You should have been paying attention, you knew this, but the balancing act of food and coffee must have distracted you more than you realized. And now the coffee was ruined as were his pants and he had paused in the final action of strapping the last bit of his vest into place. He was tall. You must not have realized that considering most interactions were in passing or with him sitting at a desk, but the man stood almost an entire head taller than you. Tall enough that you had to angle your head up to look in horror as he slowly tilted his head down to acknowledge both your presence and the hot liquid trickling down his leg.
Silence followed. You were aware a few others in the area were playing witness, silent bystanders waiting to see the infamous Wesker wrath you had heard about from Chris. Realizing you would be the victim of it, however, was less entertaining than hearing about it. You were frozen, the cup angled over in accusation as you watched the sharp glance from the man angle down.
At least you got to look at him up close. He was older, you knew that from the stories told around the station, but it was more obvious up front. His jaw was sharp and shaved, his jawline prominent as was his angled nose. His shoulders were broad and stretched out wide enough that if he turned you felt you could be hidden from the onlookers just past him. Up close he looked a little small, built more lean than muscular as he let his arms slowly drop from adjusting the vest. You could see how pristine his uniform was, smell the amber wood scented cologne he must be wearing, and even see that his badge looked almost new on his breast. And you could see the slight tick in his lips when he caught sight of you and the stain you had caused.
“Captain, sir.” Your voice shook despite trying to keep it firm. You immediately stood straight, spine snapped into place as you cleared your throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I should have been looking where I was going. I’ll clean this up, I can…” What could you do? Wash his pants and dry them when he was on his way out to the field? Dry up a stain that smelled of hazelnut? Give him your pants? A sight that would be, though you doubted he would willingly or happily take it. You stepped back a step, to put space between you both and his head angled further so he could look down at his leg. That silence stretched on longer and longer, until he finally moved. He didn’t speak, just slid one hand into the back pocket of his pants and pulled out a wallet, which he opened with a click. You watched, confused, until he pulled out two bills to offer out to you with long, surprisingly soft looking fingers. You stared. Then you looked up to him.
“For the coffee.” He explained. His voice was a low whisper, a private rumble of a distant storm that wouldn’t come your way. If he was upset he wasn’t showing it and you were confused further.
“But-“
“It was a large.” He spoke further. “Based upon how much is on my leg, it was nearly full. Purchase yourself another one.” Your mouth snapped shut and he held his hand out a little further. You slipped the empty cup into the bend of your elbow and carefully plucked the bills from his hand.
“Thank you, Captain.” He watched you, or you assumed he did. All you could see was your reflection in his sunglasses, the very item he seemed to always wear. Or something he wore before he went to the field, at least, and you looked away to slowly push the cash into a pocket of your own uniform. Then he finished strapping the last band of his vest into place and whirled to continue along a predetermined path that cut through any officers daring to remain standing in place. The moment that interaction ended, the entire station seemed to immediately pick back up into life once more. You released a breath and looked down. The entire situation felt fictional, a lie that you had imagined to make your morning interesting.
But the puddle of coffee with a boot shape melded into it in front of you gave way to how real it was.
Being in the field gave you a chance to stop by the favorite coffee shop. You were pulling up just as the first hour of your field service had struck and you were reminded of the neat bills still resting in your pocket. The place was not as filled as it could have been and you were thankful for that, slotting into line as you replayed everything that had happened. You just knew when you told Chris this story late he wouldn’t believe you. He’d deny that the Captain would ever offer something so nice, or he’d say he was possibly sick. Hell, perhaps there was a chance he later took it out on S.T.A.R.S. in the field and you’d be blamed for it later.
“Next!” You couldn’t focus on that now. Your head snapped up at the young brunette barista behind the counter, her smile polite. She was young but familiar. A face you seen in the mornings you managed to squeeze in, though you hadn’t visited in a while considering your free coffee being delivered every morning. Her smile grew in recognition. “Oh, you! It’s been a while.”
“I know, busy at the station.” You started without looking up to the menu. You already had an idea of what you wanted. Although, describing the taste of something someone else had secretly gotten you was going to be interesting for sure. “I got a drink from a…friend this morning- well, at lunch. I know it was from here, but I can’t remember what it was.” She perked up at this.
“I’ve been here for a while, I might be able to help with that.” Your relief must have been visible as she smiled a little more.
When you described it, she tapped her fingers until she snapped them.
“Oh! That must have been the drink that man ordered today!”
‘Man?’ Your thoughts whirled, chasing the clue like hounds on a scent as you righted yourself up further, spine turning rigid.
“Man?” You asked. She looked up at you then, eyes slightly closing with a curious look.
“Your…friend, right? He comes in right at opening, but today he came twice. Said he messed up your first order.” Your heart was running wild then. Your eyes scanning as though he was there now. The first clue you’ve gotten and it finally narrowed it down to someone.
A very early riser. This shop opened at a crisp 5:30 in the morning, before you would normally be up and leaving the house. You didn’t respond, trying to clip through who at the station would be up and arriving that early, and the barista arched a little forward with her head tilted to whisper.
“He is your friend right?” The way she said it, the emphasis let you know she just knew something. There wasn’t a line behind you, you made sure by glancing back, then you bent forward as well.
You explained your situation in a whispered rush, like teens gossiping by the lockers in school. You double-checked behind you every few words, whether to make sure no line was forming or that nobody was lingering over your shoulder like a stalking hawk listening in, you weren’t sure. When you finished with the current situation, the second drink in one day and your accident of spilling it with someone offering to repay it, she grinned.
“What’d you say the guy you spilled it on looked like?” Your head tilted in confusion.
“Captain Wesker? Scary. Very scary. Sunglasses, blond-headed. Rigid. Always in uniform-“
She snapped her fingers and clicked her tongue.
“Yeah, he’s the one.” You looked confused.
“The one?”
“He’s been buying your drinks.”
“No fuckin’ way.” You rarely, if ever, made a personal call while in the field. Especially to another officer who would either be preparing to come in or would be busy at work. But you made an exception the moment you snatched up your drink and nearly tripped getting into your car. The muffin you had also bought was partially torn apart in a nervous fidgeting and your coffee was turning cold when Barry had answered. You were thankful that his field work had apparently finished quickly and that he was back in the station to finish up a report on it when he answered, sneaking away to the bathroom just to hear you privately. He sounded giddy, almost excited for this piece of news as you let your eyes close with your forehead against the steering wheel of the patrol vehicle you drove. You had parked in an alley, radar aimed out to pick up the speed of passing cars. Karma paced at Barry’s voice, interest in his whine before he settled in the back of the vehicle behind the bars.
“Yes.” You muttered, ear piece heavy in your ear as you heard a breathless, quiet laugh.
“Oh, this is. Oh this explains so much.” Your brows curled and he continued like he could see your expression. “I’ve wondered how early the Captain had been getting to work. He’s normally a workaholic, but he’s never this early.”
‘He changed his schedule.’ You felt heat piling up your neck and onto your cheeks at this thought and you brushed your hands over your face to try and wipe it away.
“Shit, what do I do?” You whispered like you could be overheard. A paranoid nip told you there was a chance Wesker himself could enter the bathroom and Barry could be caught or heard, but you knew that was a slim chance. A very slim chance. Barry just laughed again.
“Give him some flowers? Well, don’t know if the Captain would like flowers. Maybe chocolates? I’ve heard a rumor he has a mean sweet tooth-“
“Barry, I’m serious.” You hissed. His laughter died down to a softer huff of air.
“I am too. Hell, go for it. He’s technically not your boss, so the rules could be flexed and bent in those regards. Man clearly is a little soft on you, or else you’d have been chewed a new one for the incident-“
“Hush.” You tried. He did not, in fact, hush.
“Might even loosen up his iron fist if he gets laid. I doubt the Captain has been laid recently. Hell, I wouldn’t doubt him to be a virgin or something, probably so busy with work he hasn’t-“
You didn’t hesitate to finally hang up on him, feeling the heat turning almost feverish on your skin. You’d get a long text from the man, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care at all as you rubbed at your face and tore the ear piece out. Another bite of muffin was comforting as you tried to figure out what to do with this new information.
You could pretend you knew nothing. Continue going on for as long as his interest in offering you coffee every day lasted until it one day suddenly stops. Maybe he would finally approach you on Valentine’s day, placed right in the middle of the work week. Or perhaps he wouldn’t. You didn’t know, since you didn’t even understand his own train of thought. Neither of you had spent time personally alone with one another outside of a professional setting. You couldn’t recall an interaction that would warrant this amount of attention from him. Unless-
Something clicked. Something clicked and you wanted to curse for the fact you hadn’t thought of it sooner. Something had happened, but it had been months and it had been a one-off event you hadn’t thought further on.
Clearly, he had.
“Shit.” You wanted to curse your stupidity, place blame in your own lack of attention. But you knew that wouldn’t solve anything. Whether this was some kind of infatuation or a growing crush that could develop further, you weren’t sure, but-
You were going to have to confront it now or continue in this never-ending cycle of uncertainty every day.
‘How?’ You could barely look him in the eyes-sunglasses?- before. How would you do it now?
“Karma, what do I do?”
He barked and you sighed.
The answer; you bump into him again.
Thankfully, your coffee had long since been finished and you had nothing in your hands when you ran into him this time. It was evening, most of the day team having slipped out over the last hour and the night shift crawling in. You had locked away the keys to the parole vehicle you had used, signed off on paperwork, and were intending on sneaking out without a confrontation. All you had to do was file the paperwork in hand and pick up Karma from the kennels and you could flee safely. While you had managed to convince yourself you’d confront him, your nerve was lost when you realized he had been in his office.
Or so you thought.
In reality, he was in the room where the printer was tucked in along with the endless filing cabinets and receptionists who would normally file the paperwork away. With evening crawling int, they had already left and you were to file your paperwork away yourself. Wesker must have been filing his own paperwork away when your body collided into his again, stumbling back as your shoulder hit his chest. Without the padded vest, you found his solid chest underneath and it knocked a surprised you back a handful of steps. He didn’t look caught off-guard as much, nor did he look entirely amused.
And you looked embarrassed.
It wasn’t from running into him again. No, it was from everything else. From the realization. From the coffee he had bought you-three in this day. From the way you didn’t know he had been watching and lingering on you for so long. Had he been watching you? He had been in the break room that morning and you hadn’t known, obviously, or did he have a spy somewhere? Was Chris actually in on this in a long-winded scheme? Did-
“Apologies.” His voice was rich and warm, like earlier, and lacked any hostility you would have expected from being inconvenienced. He brought a hand up to hover between you both in a way to steady you, but he never touched you. He also didn’t move. Neither of you did and you felt words blossom and die off in your throat. He didn’t look uncomfortable, not up front, but the way his foot turned to angle for an escape gave him away. The way his hand lowered slowly, controlled and slow, gave it all away. You opened your mouth just slightly then closed it, the words stuck. Swallowed down into a sudden sour stomach.
‘It’s him.’ You had to remind yourself, which just clutched you closer to that rise of panic and confusion. Wesker finally clicked his teeth together, turning his head slightly to look at the empty hall.
“Good evening.” It was a dismissal, spoken politely as he turned to squeeze past you and head back to his office. He was two steps away when the words finally clawed out, fueled by panic sweltering in your chest.
“Ice caramel with cream.” Your voice wavered and teetered on too high-pitched. You thought you squeaked it out too much for him to hear, but he stopped immediately. From here you could see his shoulders straighten, tension pooling along his back as his head suddenly turned. At this angle you could see past the corner of his sunglasses and see the edge of blue peering back at you.
“Excuse me?” He asked. There was nothing in his tone. No panic, no reaction to the possibility of being caught. He was still in control, even now, and you wished you had that ability yourself. But you had started and you couldn’t hesitate now.
“Ice caramel with cream.” You said again. The blue of his gaze was too much and you turned away to look at the printer instead. “That’s what I normally drink. But…I do like the hazelnut you’ve been….” It trailed off, a whisper on your lips, and your heart flooded your ears. You felt a buzz. A high from just throwing the truth out sent your veins burning. When the silence continued to stretch, to grow until your chest ached from the adrenaline pouring through, you thought about just leaving. Dealing with the paperwork another day.
“You know.”
He confirmed it.
Your head jerked and you were shocked at how close he was, within reach with his head angled down to look at you. Your mouth opened again, but the words shuddered into a wilting breath. You just nodded instead. You don’t know why you expected some kind of expression from the man. Something akin to embarrassment, perhaps. Maybe even some worry for finally being caught like this of all ways. But nothing. Just a slight turn up of his lips that could have been a smirk if you hadn’t blinked and it was gone, then he held out his hand. You just stared.
“Good. Then this saves me from approaching you.” He started and continued to hold his hand out, palm up. “Phone.” He ordered and you obeyed. When you gave it to him he swiped it open and heard him grunt at your lack of a lock, almost in disapproval. He tapped and messed with something until he turned it back and you realized he had slipped his contact information into your phone. “I wish to take you out to dinner. I have a place in mind.”
“Oh.” You contributed nothing, but the confused noise that left you seemed to spark an actual smirk, his lips twisting up.
“Call me, if you’re willing.” He turned, preparing to leave.
“Wait-“ He paused, you stuttered on your next word, then found it as he looked to turn again. “This- is this…why…” But the words trailed and died off as you thought further and further on it.
The incident. It wasn’t anything terribly spectacular, nothing you had thought of as significant at the time, but clearly it had been to him. It was late, with you being one of the final day-shift officers to stay over. Your lunch had been mostly forgotten in an intense car-chase that had nearly gone wrong that had stolen your appetite at some point, so prior to leaving you had found your dinner still tucked into the recesses of the fridge. When you heated up, the Captain had appeared and had looked desperately for something for the moment. You questioned him, politely, as it was only you two in the break room, only to discover the man must have left his own lunch at home. You were hungry, but your nerves were too shot to care as you offered up your own meal. The debate went back and forth, more polite than anything, until you had offered to share. He looked uncertain the entire time. You could remember that much. How he gripped the plastic fork a little too tight as you both settled against the counter, the bowl between you both as you took turns eating the heated up noodles. No sauce, just butter and garlic mixed in.
Then you both talked and it felt like the entire evening you both spent talking, reflecting on the day and the job and everything in between. You mentioned the coffee shop to him, you recall, and you even mentioned how you normally liked to go there, but hadn’t been in a while. You recalled how silent he was. How tense he looked at times, as though he was uncertain of how to handle a simple act of kindness to him. Then you wished him good night. A simple good night and a smile.
And he hadn’t returned, just held that fork until you were certain it was going to break as you left the break room.
Wesker just looked you over, noticeable by the tilt of his head until he turned away and resumed walking further down the hall, his uniformed back disappearing as he rounded the corner.
The moment he was gone, you braced against the wall and just stared.
You could almost believe the entire event had been made up when you finally made it home. When you showered, dressed in pajamas, and settled on the couch to a warm cup of tea and a mindless soap opera playing in the background. You could have believed it was all made up in your head. Some fantasy spurred on by the romantic season of Valentine’s sweltering around you. Karma was retired on the end of the couch, chewing eagerly on one of the toys you had laying about your living room when you convinced yourself it was just a stress induced fantasy.
But when you opened your phone to call your mom to talk, you found ‘Albert Wesker’ neatly tucked at the top of your contacts.
And that reminded you of how real it actually was. You thought briefly of ignoring it. Perhaps tomorrow when you would come in you wouldn’t find a coffee. Your admirer, no longer secret, would pull back at you ignoring him and eventually you could both move on.
Or-
You messaged him. You sent a text saying ‘Hello’ and your name and that was it, to let him know. You didn’t expect a response knowing at this hour the man should be in bed for the hours he normally comes in to work at, but your phone dinged almost immediately after and you jumped at the sound.
‘Valentine’s day is impractical for dinner. It’s over-crowded and we both have early shifts Thursday. Would you be opposed to next Friday in regards to that?’
Straight to the point. Your hand hovered, thumb pressing a button before pulling back to delete the words as you typed them. Your hesitation showed, you knew it, but you doubted he was as nervous as you were about this. Or he didn’t show it.
‘No, the Captain wouldn’t get nervous.’ The thought did make you laugh a little, imagining Wesker nervous in any way seemed to be a funny image. One that helped to ease your nerves just enough to type out your response.
‘It works for me, sir.’
‘Good. I will figure out a location and time.’
You just started to put the phone away when it dinged once more.
‘Goodnight.’