Heterochromic Haze

28- Leather and Tin

"Is he okay?"

I hear the concerned question, the unfamiliar voice and disregard it almost immediately.

"Hm?"

"That guy? On the floor."

I roll my eyes, immediately regretting it as I almost feel the grime of the floor imprint itself of the inside of my eyelids.

"Oh! Yeah. That's Ledger, he does that sometimes."

My eyes narrow, a low exasperated groan escaping my chest at Grey's blasé attitude to my behaviour.

"Are you sure he's okay?"

"Yeah, he's a bit of a drama queen sometimes."

I sit up so fast my head spins.

"Excuse me!?"

"See? He's fine." Grey says dismissively, gesturing at me.

My eyes meet the guy opposite Grey, who is looking at me peculiarly. His hair is dyed light blond, almost white whilst his eyes are an interesting green.

He holds my attention for a fraction of a second before I'm left wondering why on earth his hair's not brown, his eyes not a heterochromic delight. I grimace, flopping back down on the floor with another groan.

"See? Drama queen." Grey points out unhelpfully.

"Are you actually going to order anything? And can he stop doing that?" Another voice snaps, their tone a lot sharper.

"Ledger? What would you like to drink?" Grey asks politely, his face turned down toward my empty corpse.

I turn my head to the side blandly, staring at the menu above the till.

"A big black coffee." I say eventually.

I watch as Grey's lips press together firmly, clearly in disapproval. He turns back to the barista, who looks a second from murder, and smiles at him.

"I'll have an iced caramel macchiato, with coconut milk if possible, and he'll have a decaf latte, please." Grey says, his voice charming.

"Decaf?!" I cry, watching Grey pay for something I'd never wish upon my worst enemy.

"The caffeine isn't going to help your...turbulence." Grey comments, glancing my way.

"I have no idea what you're referring to?" I say, frankly outraged at the thought that I am anything other than level.

"You're lying on the floor of Starbucks, Ledge." Grey points out.

"Which we have asked you not to do." The blond adds politely.

I roll my eyes again. He makes it sound like I've made a hobby out of this. Which I have not.

I peel myself off the floor reluctantly as Grey approaches with our mugs. He settles himself in the leather arm chair beside me and I flop into the one opposite, my legs sprawling over the arm of the seat as I stare dismally at the cup of chocolatey liquid in front of me.

"I hate you."

"No you don't." Grey says chirpily, sipping on his beverage.

"Wasn't talking to you." I mutter, still staring hatefully at the liquid masquerading as coffee.

"How are you?" He asks kindly, his eyes warm, his entire appearance comforting.

I resent it.

"Horrible."

"Excellent, and how's work coming along?" Grey chirps, ignoring me totally.

It's amazing how he can essentially have a conversation with himself.