𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕 • Neil Perry & Todd Anderson

ʀᴇғʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ɪɴ ᴄᴏғғᴇᴇ ᴏɴ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ

TW: slight homophobic gesture and potential spelling errors and grammar

    Todd awoke to the sound of angry traffic. A gray man, who was balding from Todd's view, cursed out the window of his seat in front of him. The bus's engine gave a final jolt before it halted. Outside the window, a yellow taxi was parked. Beyond all of the growing steam, another much younger man barked and waved his hands furiously.

    Going by the towering buildings, honks of cars, growing chaos and many passer byes they seemed to have made their way to New York.

    The boy watched as people crowded the middle row. Some collected their bags from the top storage shelves. Others shoved their way through the door. Two minutes of consciousness and the pandemonium made Todd feel out of place. But it was too late to go back.

    Movement started next to him. Neil was in a similar state of bewilderment. His eyes were puffy with sleep yet wild as he looked at the scene before them. He looked to Todd with a giddy smile. This was a smile Todd couldn't recognize. His lips were turned upward so broadly, wrinkles formed at the sides of his brown eyes. A stream of ecstatic energy radiated from that smile. Todd could not help but feel his own energy rise. It was moments like these where he did his very best to burn that memory into his brain so he would never forget it.

    They joined the herd of passengers that shuffled toward the front of the bus. Neil clutched his bag and Todd shimmied further into his borrowed trench coat. The closer they got to the door the louder the city got. Behind the glass it just seemed like a silent film but now the reality was setting in.

    Neil took the liberty of walking in front of Todd. He figured Todd was getting anxious. He was too. So, he reached behind him until his hand wrapped around Todd's. They were soft but suprisingly small as he could reach his fingers all the way around his hand. He couldn't deny the delightful flurry in his fingertips against Todd's skin. It was a bold move, Neil figured. But in this moment, he didn't care if people saw. What he did care about was the fact that Todd's grip grew stronger the closer they got to the door.

    The streets glowed from the sunrise that peeked through every crack in the architecture. Buildings hung tall and confident against the sky. Cars zoomed by and taxi's were whistled at. The pair stood on the corner and watched as people dressed in suits and formal dresses padded down the sidewalks with purpose. Nothing was sleepy or slow about them. A man in a perfectly tailored gray suit walked by. His shoes shined and clicked along the curb. He stared directly at the boys hands, which still held tightly to one another. He scoffed as he picked up pace down the street, briefcase swinging with his stride.

   Todd plucked his hand away and hugged it to his chest.  He looked at Neil who tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Asshole." He muttered.

  They brushed the interaction to the side when they noted the scent of food. It was warm and tempting along their senses. Freshly brewed coffee lingered in their noses with tang and baked bread made their stomachs grumble. It was then that they realized it had been days since they had last eaten.     

    Like dogs, they tracked the scent to a cafe parallel to their backs. Cafe Wha?  read a sign  in bold blue and red lettering against a brick building. A medieval style door sat beneath it.

   "That doesn't look like a cafe." Todd warned. He eyed the cornerstone nervously as he hovered behind Neil's shoulder. Neil  squared his own shoulders, tugged on Todd's sleeve and pulled him as he ascended through the entrance.

    Acoustics of a guitar being played filled their ears. Clinks of coffee cups and sips of people enjoying their morning pick me ups welcomed them.