Realistic or Modern 𝓐𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓪

Poking things is my right!

As the last of the hours of the day wore by and night settled, the clock struck five, signally closing. Twenty minutes prior, Gideon had already vanished into the back, his social battery drained as he resigned himself to dish duty. It was at this time of his shift that he was thankful for bringing along his protege, Rutger. He had the energy to feign the polite mannerisms needed to deal with customers this close to closing.

But it did mean that Gideon had to endure Rutger's teasing. As he finished the dishes and rounded the corner to work on the countertops out at the front of house, Gideon was immediately hit with one of Rutger's gently barbed assaults. Gideon wasn't the expressive kind, but his eyebrows did curve up in a slight show of dismay, "I'm not that messy. And if I were, I at least try to clean up after myself. Right?"

Knowing that Rutger was messing with him meant that Gideon didn't feel any sting from the jab. But it did make Gideon question himself for a moment. Typically when he was at the coffee shop, he'd order the cakes and sandwiches that were sold there, due to his employee discount. He was usually able to catch the crumbs in the plate he ate in... at least he thought so.

If Gideon was truly that messy out in public, he'd definitely be embarrassed to invite Rutger into his dorm. While he considered himself generally clean, there were a few incongruencies in his and Rutger's perspectives on how one conducts themselves. For example, the topic of smell. Upon hearing Rutger's complaint, Gideon reached underneath the counter to grab a bottle of Febreeze, tossing it to Rutger.

Typically, Gideon couldn't care less about how he smelled. As long as he had deodorant on, that was good enough for him. But Rutger's teasing-- as well as some of the good points that he brought up-- led Gideon to also pick out a few rotating styles of cologne. For him, he tended towards spicier, bolder scents, as that in his eyes would be the flavor someone scary and evil would wear.

"You understand I can't just refuse a customer just because they can't afford a shower," Gideon said. With practiced precision, Gideon began to place all the ingredients back to their proper places. The blender pitcher went back onto the machine, the syrups went back on the shelf, and the milk went into the trash-- it had been out for too long and was no longer food-safe. With an unintentionally direct and rude tone, Gideon commented, "I wonder when you'll start bringing in customers that are like you. We'd probably need to expand our tea selection when that happens."

Poking things is my right!

Well of course Gideon would leave crumbs. Only the most meticulous person ever could achieve zero crumbs when it came to pastries. Although that didn't mean that Gideon wanted Rutger to be cleaning after him, even though he appreciated it... and was a bit more than a smidget abashed by it.

While he worked, he took time to ponder Rutger's words. Of course Gideon should kick people out for being bad customers. In fact, he had a duty to. But did coming in slightly smelly really warrant being kicked out? In the end, Gideon decided that even if it was warranted, he didn't want to be the one to have the uncomfortable conversation kicking someone out. Whilst putting the last of the pitchers back to where they belonged, Gideon piped up to Rutger, "If you want to kick them out in the future, be my guest."

With all his ducks in a row, he turned his attention to a small capsule of coffee left on the countertop. As he had served the last customer earlier that day, Gideon had accidentally ground up a bit too much coffee. He wasn't about to let that go to waste, and so with the cleaning done, Gideon pulled out a kettle, filters, and a mug-- everything he needed for a pour-over. Rutger might've been the type to solely enjoy his tea at home, but Gideon did not have such standards. He deserved a cup of coffee for making it through the day, and besides, the coffee always tasted better when it was made at the store.

As he busied himself, he didn't hear Rutger sneaking up behind him. So when Rutger suddenly wrapped his arms around him, Gideon let out a shriek unbefitting an aspiring villain such as himself. His arm jerked instinctively, spilling boiling hot water onto the countertop. He tried to whirl around to face Rutger, but with the pretty boy latched on to him, he just ended up flailing around for a brief moment. After finally realizing that struggling was fruitless, Gideon put down the kettle before he ended up accidentally scalding either himself or Rutger.

"By Satan's scrotum, did you really have to do that? Are you practicing for when you asssinate me?" Gideon complained as his heart pounded in his chest. He didn't give much attention to the skinship that Rutger was exhibiting-- if he wanted to give Gideon a hug, that was his choice. But Gideon had never been the type for physical affection. He would though, address Rutger's words, "Of course I took your advice. I wouldn't want to be the proverbial skunk when compared to you. And no, don't bother ironing the shirt. I have two dozen of these. I'll just grab a wrinkle-free one to wear tomorrow."

Since he had been an employee for the better part of his adulthood, Gideon had amassed a sufficiently large collection of the cafe's uniforms. Technically, he was only supposed to have one pair, but there was no way he was doing laundry every day. Besides, it wasn't as though the shirts were missed.

Slav

Poking things is my right!

As soon as Rutger released a hand to check on his nails, Gideon picked up the kettle to continue making his cup of coffee. If he waited too long, the water temperature would decrease and the taste of the coffee would be affected. He filled the dripper up to the rim with water and set it aside to let it steep into his cup.

Rutger was right that if he wanted to kill Gideon, he could do so with not even a single peep. That idea didn't make Gideon feel particularly comfortable, in fact, it almost outright scared him if not for the fact that Gideon was on good terms with Rutger... as far as he was aware. Gideon reminded himself for the millionth time not to get on Rutger's bad side.

"I think you'll find that the majority of college students are far lazier than I am. STEM majors can barely find the energy to shower once a week, and business majors do nothing but nurse hangovers," Gideon protested against the description of his laziness, "Besides, even if I was a slob, how would you kick out your superior from the store?"

Gideon huffed the slightest of a laugh, the expression on his face impassive despite his amusement. The dripper had been reduced to producing a few drops of coffee every so often. Gideon screwed on the stopper and took the cup of coffee away, blowing at the surface of the cup before taking a cautious sip. As he savored the rich, nutty, and floral drink, he took inventory of his schedule. Hanging out with Rutger would make for a good break. When he wasn't researching in the school library for his paper, he was finicking with IEDs for his Machiavellian Machinations™-- his plans to take over the city, for those uninitiated with his terminology. He hardly took any time off.

"Okay, we can hang out. But just to let you know, I don't do drugs of any kind. And I'm not old enough to buy alcohol," Gideon said. He raised his eyebrows in amusement as Rutger sized him up, "Are you implying you want to treat me to dinner?"

He wouldn't be opposed to going out to get food with Rutger, although considering how refined Rutger seemed, Gideon wondered if the places Rutger frequented were of high class. If so, Gideon didn't know if he had any proper formal wear that he could don.

Slav

Poking things is my right!