little things

one

The street was subtly lit. An alleyway with just enough shadows to blend into the darkness for when cover was sought. In other words, it was Falon's favorite kind of place. He was one with the night.

He tugged on his hood, ensuring it covered his silver hair as he leaned on the building side. Letting out a sigh, he brought his hands up to his face, blowing on them for warmth. His breath created a small cloud as its warmth met the icy air.

Falon heard the rain before he felt it. Droplets that gleamed in the moonlight just before the pitter-patter as they hit the ground. The little Ramen bar up ahead shone bright. There was only one person being served. He sat on one of the bar stools, just barely sheltered from the rain by the little overhang on the tiny booth. Like Falon, he had his hood pulled snug around his head and his cloak buttoned. He didn't seem to have ordered any food, only a bottle he had been nursing for a little over half an hour now. Falon had been watching him from the second he had sat down to when he ordered, and now, as he quietly refilled the small glass that had come with the bottle. Yet Falon was still unsure if this man was who he was supposed to be meeting.

"Ahh... Fuck it." Falon stood and approached the ramen bar, sticking to the darkest parts of the alley.

As he came upon the small shop, he noticed that the man had pulled a black notebook from his cloak pocket and he appeared to be scribbling urgently in the little book. Falon pulled out the bar stool one seat over and scanned the menu over the server's head as he sat. The server looked up from the glowing screen of his phone and looked expectantly at Falon.

He ordered a bowl of ramen with pork belly. He was craving the hot noodles and juicy meat for some warmth. Finally, he glanced over at the man next to him who seemed to be just finishing up whatever he was writing. He stuffed the little book back into his pocket and once again refilled his glass, this time finishing off the bottle. It wasn't until he had downed the glass that he turned to look at Falon.

"You're late."

"And you said you were going to be wearing a hat."

The server placed the steaming bowl of ramen in front of him along with a pair of chopsticks.

"Ah. Yes, well I seem to have misplaced my hat. In any case, here-" from his breast pocket he pulled out a slip of paper, placing it down next to the chopsticks.

He then dug out a wad of cash, and left a crumpled bill next to his empty glass. Locking eyes with Falon, he got up, nodded at him, and then walked off into the rain.

Falon watched him go before finally turning his attention to the still steaming noodles in front of him. He tucked the paper into his pocket, then picked up his chopsticks and dug into his meal.