PRETTY BOY, george karim x reader

| 001 | trains & failed interviews

You squinted at the bright light, ears ringing from opening the door. Despite the bell at the top of the door frame being noisy, the small room was still. Nobody was sat on the stools, and none of the televisions hung on the wall were switched on. A faint hum and a quiet clatter were the only sounds for you to recognize that you weren't alone.

If it weren't for the girl who came stumbling out an employees only door, only to stiffen at the sight of you, you would have probably walked out.  

Her brows furrowed, and she managed to muster up an introduction. "Oh, hello." She strode towards you, wiping her hands clean on her apron. "We don't get people in here much, so... uh, what can I get for you?"

You thought, chewing the inside of your lip. "Coffee, please. It's going to be a long day and I would rather be awake for the most of it."

She giggled and pushed a wisp of blue hair behind her ear. "Yes, I understand that." She wrote everything down quickly, before looking up and tilting her head. "Anything with that? Milk or cream or sugar?"

"No thank you," you shook your head. "It's gonna need to be strong." You looked around the shop, pressing your lips into a line. "There's no need for a name, right? There isn't really anyone else it could be."

She nodded, guiding you towards a small table, then, almost instantaneously was behind the counter. From where you were sat on a cushioned orange stool, you could see the worker very well. She must have been out of business, or at the very lest not getting many customers. 

As she worked, you let your mind wander. It wasn't every day that you could go out and venture on your own, not since you were thirteen. The Ghost Hunting business was a dangerous one, and it was hard to grasp the reality of everything. Just a glimpse of a bloodcurdling ghost was enough to keep you up at night, frozen in bed, fearful that if even the sheets shifted something would be out to get you.

You were thankful for all the training you had gotten, at least you wouldn't be completely defenceless, like a lot of other people. Regardless, defence was no excuse for how Jacobs was treating children; like adults that were in need of cleansing. That's what he used to say, anyway, though it didn't make any sense to you.

Your were startled out of your thoughts abruptly, a plastic white cup sitting in front of you. "Thanks," you said, nodding towards the girl and motioning for her to sit across from you. She held out a mixing stick, and you willingly took it, stirring and blowing the hot coffee. You sighed, the steam making your cheeks warm.

"Hey," the girl said, and your head snapped up, startled. "I didn't get your name."

You placed the lid on and took a slow sip. "I didn't tell you. Plus," you paused, watching her eyes glimmer, "I can save that for next time."

"Yeah, alright," she agreed, standing up and dusting off her pants. "I have to go now, but it was nice meeting you." 

"That's alright," you murmured, chin still buried in your cup. You straightened your posture and stood from off the stool, giving the stranger one last glance before you slipped out the door. You could here a faint goodbye just as the door closed, and you shook your head, laughing to yourself. She was nice, and you could only wish for the chance to see her again.

The train in front of you slowed to a stop, and your eyes widened at the realization that it must be yours. You swallowed the rest of your coffee and dumped it into a garbage a few paces away, practically sprinting to the nearest door. 

You made it just in time, scanning your ticket -- which, weirdly enough, had been in your hand the entire time -- and rushed through when the metal doors opened, letting out a sigh of relief.