Coffee Shop (III)
V stood outside the small coffee shop, it was disappointing that IV refused to join him and III for a nice cup of coffee. Normally V wasn’t the one to drink coffee but word on the street said that they had good coffee and sweets. It didn’t even seem that crowded or anything, it was just there. It looked old and not too modern either. V looked around searching for his youngest brother.
It wasn’t until a few seconds later V spotted him, giving a rare soft smile to III as he was approached, V asked, “How was your day?” It wouldn’t hurt to show some emotion throughout the rest of the day, wouldn’t it? But his emotion would only be limited to a smile or a laugh, any other emotion he wouldn’t show. Not because he wouldn’t he just couldn’t.
He was definitely late by now, III thought grudgingly to himself as he dashed around the corner that would finally take him to the right street. His appearance was probably less than presentable, if the sidelong glances he got from people he passed were anything to go by, but it couldn’t be helped. The possible Numbers holder he had been trying to pursue for the better part of an entire afternoon had dragged him through parts of the city he could have lived without knowing of. Much less actually stepping foot in them himself. But when it came to jobs given to him by Tron, he would do what ever it took— even if it meant setting aside personal opinions.
The sight of V standing patiently by the door of the little coffee shop they had agreed to meeting at quickly did away with his slightly dampened mood, though. Seeing a smile on his oldest brother’s face lifted his heart and effortlessly spread a bright smile to his own face. As he came nearer to V, III slowed his pace until reaching a full stop right in front of him. Resisting the need to bend over and rest his hands on his knees in a gasping mess took all the willpower he had. He took a moment to catch his breath before responding.
“Quite good,” III answered as soon as he was able, trying to smooth down his hair and clothes to look as if they hadn’t just been in such disarray. ”…A little busy,” he admitted sheepishly when the slight look he earned from the other told him the little white lie hadn’t gone unnoticed. ”I’m sorry for being late. I got a little… lost, earlier.”
