(This is based off of Despair Resort characters lmaooo so credit to Moa217 on Instagram, love you boo. Despair Resort is this comic on Instagram and when I heard about the backstories of this couple I was like "yes"
MODERN)
All of the employees left after their shifts, clocks in their eyes as they hung up their uniforms. All laughing, all playing as they walk out in groups. You were taking minutes cleaning up the last table, hoping it will take you all night. Unlike them, you weren't hungry to leave, you wanted to stay in your place for the next shift. You didn't want to go home. But the baker with the blue eyes would always question you, and you don't want to embarrass yourself.
Baker, how funny. Whenever somebody says baker you think of a plump girl with a big smile. Our baker is a tall, lanky boy with midnight curls and bluebird eyes called Maven. He is always the last one out, somewhat making sure you leave before him. Whether you annoy him or he's concerned, you don't care. He's just a bother. Sure, he's nice and helps you find the things you've occasionally misplaced, but the way he waits, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, is so sassy and indirectly rude.
Today, as you wait for Maven to walk out of the kitchen and direct you out, you sit on the counter where people fix drinks. You love looking out onto the quiet, empty restaurant. The lack of life is peaceful to you. You relax a bit. You hate going home, and you have nowhere to go except there. At home, there are your horrible parents who don't hesitate on reminding you how much you hate yourself. As much as you very much want to stay in the restaurant, you have given up on trying to hide.
"Let's go," Maven says as he walks out of the kitchen. He seems oddly attractive to you suddenly. Whether it was the way his hair falls over his eyes or how his rolled up sleeves show off his particularly masculine arms. In his hands, an apron, which he clenches to show off the veins sticking from his hands. You blush, alternating your gaze when he lays his eyes on you. You stay in the spot you sit and squeeze your hands together.
"I want to stay," you say firmly, your eyes on the floor. He stops walking. As he faces you, he upon your shaking form. He takes careful steps closer, examining you like a wild animal. He didn't realize you felt this passionate about staying. Somewhere in his mind, he assumed you were just playing fun. You had never shown how serious you were about it. Maven sighs as he digs into his pocket.
"Lock it up after I go," when you look up at him, he's holding his keys out. You slowly take them, holding them in your hands before smiling at him. A release, this it is. You can finally be away from the hurtful home. You told Maven thank you as you watch him walk away, and out the door. Your heartbeat is uncontrollable, your hands are shaking. You never thought he would be so polite. In your head, you imagined him arguing with you. And now, as you stare at the closed door he walked out of, you smile. The building is all yours.
Maven has a weird sense of trust in you. He has observed how quiet and shy you are. Unlike the other employees, he knows you'd never do anything wrong. And you didn't. You just slept near the counter, falling asleep easier than you would at home. And in the morning Maven is the first one in. You were awake to let him in. He comes in hours before everybody else. You help him set the tables up, light the chandeliers, and clean up anything you moved. He is particularly nice like he was raised by royals. His movements are elegant and he has the patience of a prince. You are a shy, slow person so Maven is just the person you need in your life.
"I didn't take any pens," you say as you wrap your hands around the container holding the waiters' utensils, "even though I could have. I even thought about it." You let out a laugh, and Maven smiles. Making him smile is something you never thought you'd be so proud of.
"I'm proud of you, then." He teases. It doesn't feel like the joke it was meant to be. You took it to heart, he was proud of you. It feels good.
As the other workers come in, Maven isolates himself in his section of the kitchen and busies himself quickly. As usual, everybody ignores your presence and doesn't question. You take a pen, putting it in your back pocket
Your section of the restaurant, as depressing as it is, has been surprisingly alive and busy. You get stressed, trying to please each person. Somebody helps you, but only one person. The restaurant has never been the busiest of restaurants, but today is special. It's Valentine's day. And couples are the most sensitive. Everybody was coming and going. Your job was to clean up the tables, serving plates, and fill waters. Everywhere is a table of two, and you always feel overpowered by the noisy customers. The other person helping you, a short brown haired girl, gave up her position and went to the back. You had to quickly bring out the food and clean up the tables. The feeling of the warm plates burning the layers of your forearm almost made you cry. But you put on a smile and tried to seem patient.
A hand brushed against your waist as a figure passed you. You look back, Maven was there cleaning one of the recently left tables. You thanked him, grabbing the plates being called to you with a smile. Maven helped you with your section. You were concerned about his part in the kitchen since every couple seemed to order a cake. But when you look at the kitchen, the person you recognize as Maven's brother is covering his section. Cal is the co-manager, and you know he's good at baking. On Maven's birthday, Cal brought in a big cake he made himself. It was godly.
Cal makes eye contact with you and he winks. You shake your head and continue to do work. Soon enough, people stopped coming in and the day ended. You wait until everybody else leaves. Watching them laugh with each other, all friends, makes you smile. Will you and Maven be like that one day? Are you like that now? When Maven walks out of the kitchen he smiles, stopping to stand next to you. You've known him for the solid year you've worked here and you don't think you've ever seen him smile like that.
"Thank you, again." You say. He smirks, standing in front of you. He leans close and your body freezes up. You can barely feel his breath on your nose. His hands wrap around your waist, reaching down until they reach your back pockets.
He pulls out the pen you took in the morning, holding it up to your face. He taps your nose with it, "no taking pens." He takes a step back, walking away with a prideful smile. You cover your face with your hands, walking to the door to lock it behind him.
Before you go to sleep, you see something on the counter you were leaning on before. It's another key with a paper wrapped around it. "All yours," it said with a heart. You couldn't help but smile.