counterpoint

brighter than sunshine

blurb: there's a man who keeps buying a strange mix of grocery items. as trusty cashier of schubert safemart, eddy's immensely intrigued.

→ ig request: grocery store/bookstore where one is the cashier and the other always buys random stuff just to get to talk to the other person

warnings: none

title from brighter than sunshine by aqualung.

• • •

i.

the first time eddy notices brett, it's not because of his puppy-soft features nor the artless sweep of his bangs falling into his eyes (though to be fair, the shorter man had been hiding his face in his hoodie that day).

it's because of the fact that he's just stacked seven boxes of lucky charms: magical unicorn marshmallows on the checkout counter, and no person in their right mind would buy that many boxes for themselves, just saying. eddy has his own opinion.

it's only through months and months of trained polite-service discipline that eddy doesn't gape at the sight. by the time he's composed himself enough to move again, the stacks of cereal boxes precariously teeter, and so eddy reaches out and steadies them. "will these be all, sir?" he asks the man on the other side of the cardboard wall, the tip of his hoodie just barely peeking out from the top.

"yes, please," comes the quiet answer, decidedly soft even as the voice is deep and masculine. eddy hums, begins to swipe the cereal up, box by box. slowly, the cardboard tower dwindles, and then—

their eyes meet. a rosy blush blooms on the other man's cheeks. a trick of the light, perhaps? eddy isn't really sure.

"thank you," the customer mumbles, quickly gathering the shopping bags and scurrying out the door. eddy stares after him for a few minutes and then shrugs.

weird, but oh well; whatever.

ii.

the next time eddy sees the bespectacled man, it's on a cold tuesday morning and he's dressed in a far more respectable fashion than before. no more messy bedhair and ratty hoodie; now that eddy can actually see his face, well. it's not a bad face, is what he thinks, and what the hell?  

he resists the urge to slap himself over the weird thought—propriety, eddy; propriety!—and opts to focus instead on the items he's ringing up on the cash register.

a cup of hummus and a head of iceberg lettuce, and then nothing else. so far, it's not the weirdest of combinations eddy's encountered, but it's still not a grocery list you see everyday. is this customer planning on only eating hummus and lettuce at home or something?

"what's the hummus for," eddy asks. he'd almost forgotten they still sell those things.

the other man looks as if he's caught off guard by the question, jolting backwards just a bit, and then shrugs wordlessly. the faint smile on his mouth can only be described as enigmatic.

"alright, then, keep your secrets," eddy mock-complains, his lips curling up in amusement.

this man is interesting. he should probably keep an eye on him from now on.

iii.

there's significantly more items on this particular customer's grocery list today. eddy's been keeping track of the man's shopping habits, and it's been quite the interesting journey.