Been a Long Time Coming for the Working Man

[burnthemall]

Hansel liked the times where he was alone in the coffee shop best. Early in the morning when he was baking or late at night when he was cleaning up, or making doughs to rise overnight. It was quiet, except for the radio he left playing in the kitchen. He was alone and allowed a moment of peace and quiet.

If Gretel stayed some nights that was okay. He never minded his sister's presence.

Tonight, he was alone though, moping the floor and singing along to the radio.

Comments

[burnthemall]

"Only Ace hardware's best." He had no fucking clue where the mop came from. It was just a stupid mop.

[chromatist]

"Good enough for me."

She sits back a little and takes a deep breath, pushing her hair out of her face and clearly trying to get herself back together. "Thanks, Hansel. For...all of this."

[burnthemall]

He shrugs a shoulder. "No problem, Red."

Not that he wanted to do this again. He could only really handle this once or twice a month. Maybe.

[chromatist]

"Do you want me to clear out, let you finish up without me breaking down in the center of your store?"

It's possible she's just mortified he had to see that.

[burnthemall]

"You can stay if you want. I've got to finish up." Because he can't close without cleaning everything up. He's worked until the wee hours of the morning sometimes.

Insomnia is an issue.

[chromatist]

She hesitates for a moment. "...Can I help?"

[burnthemall]

"Can you clean?" Because he can't imagine her cleaning. Ever.

[chromatist]

She gives him a look. "As long as I can do it barefoot, then yes." Because she is not fulfilling any weird teenage fantasies he had about a hot chick cleaning in heels.

[burnthemall]

"You can't be barefoot in here. It's against the health code." He doesn't have any weird French maid fantasies. He's not that kinky.

[chromatist]

She looks down at the floor where her stilettos sit, silently accusing her.

"Fine," she sighs. "Let's make this quick, then. My feet hurt already and doing dishes or whatever in Manolo Blahnik's isn't going to help."

[burnthemall]

"No, go home if you're hurting. You've had a bad enough day."

He's not going to make her feet suffer on top of it. He's not cruel.

[chromatist]

"Nope, I'm doing it now, come on."

She sits up and wiggles her feet back into her shoes, clapping her hands on her thighs.

[burnthemall]

"I might be here for another two hours, Lydia."

He has his nighttime ritual and he's got to make sure everything is still going well with his dough. He's not going to keep her here.

"Look, go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

[chromatist]

"Then that's another two hours I don't have to be alone with my crushing failures. I'm helping you, get used to it."

She just doesn't want to be alone right now. Even sore toes is going to be worth it.

[burnthemall]

"Gretel will still be up. I can call her. You two can have a girl's night or some shit."

Because he really doesn't want her on her feet working when she's had a crappy day. That just doesn't seem fair to him.

[chromatist]

"Do you want the help or not, Hansel, come on." She steals a pen from in front of the register, one of those slim Bic ones, and twists her hair off her neck, stabbing the pen through it to keep it in place. "Leave your sister alone, I don't need to bug her."

[burnthemall]

"I don't. Not really. You've worked enough today. Go have fun." That's really all he wants for her. It's not that he's bothered by her offering, but she's got impractical shoes and she's all dressed up.

"Or, you know, go home and take a hot bath or something. Relaxing shit, not this crap."

[chromatist]

"I really don't want to be alone in my apartment right now, that's all," she confesses, halfway back into the back, pausing with her hand on her hip.

[burnthemall]

"Call a friend. You've got to have plenty." She doesn't seem like the loner type, not like him.

[chromatist]

"Stiles is in California, and Dean is at work," she says, counting them off on her fingers. They're the only real friends she has who know anything about her life before New York, well, except for Hansel right now. "I work with the others, they're kind of the last people I want to see right now."

[burnthemall]

"Who the fuck names their kid Stiles?" Because that's the dumbest shit Hansel has ever heard. At least his name made sense and was an actual name.

[chromatist]

Finally, she cracks a smile. "He's Polish. Named after his grandfather. You know, I never found out what his real name was until after college? It's Gościsław, for the record, which makes him going by Stiles, a bastardization of his last name, make total sense."

[burnthemall]

"There's nothing wrong with an ethnic name." He's Hansel Jager, the most German name to ever exist. He thinks Goscilaw is pretty damn cool in comparison.

"Look, if you're going to stick around just sit and get out of my way. You'll cause me more problems then you'll solve." She might listen if he's rude. That tends to work.

[chromatist]

"Hansel is a lot easier to pronounce than Gościsław, honey." Of course Lydia can do it perfectly, though. "And apparently it's a weird-ass name, even to the Polish, I checked."

She huffs a little and gives him a sour look. "Rude."

[burnthemall]

"Yet everyone says it with the wrong accent." He goes back to his mop to keep his hands busy.

"Why the hell does it still surprise you? I'm a rude guy." He is. He's an asshole and he knows it. Occasionally, he can be a decent guy but in the end, he's an ass.