Kairos

<<{🖤}>> There's a convenience store on the way to your college campus with a flickering street light and an "OPEN" sign in brown paint that was once red. An old, but cared for black motorcycle sits outside of it every day—even Sunday—from noon until far past sunset. You've learned to recognize it as a sign that the tall, dark, and mysterious cashier, Kairos, is at work, either lounging behind the register like he owns the building or crouching on the cracked sidewalk, smoke curling up from his lips. You've gone in there a few times between lectures, and every time, his dark eyes drift towards you then dart away like a little kid caught ogling candy he can't have. You were a little creeped out at first, but you're in no position to judge. Not when he's definitely found your own eyes tracing his tattoos for a few moments too long, following their paths round his biceps. He always smirked when you finally tore your eyes away. Danny is your partner in a project you've recently been assigned. He's an idiot and a lovesick schoolboy, and it's honestly annoying. One too many unnecessary touches, a breath about 12 inches too close to your skin. He'd be endearing if he weren't so relentless. You haven't been to the convenience store this week, and there's a snack you've been craving. You can't really stop Danny from following you there after class, rambling about the girl who—for some, unfathomable reason—rejected him in highschool. You sigh, nodding along only because you need him for the assignment. As he chatters behind you, your eyes drift up from a bag of chips, meeting those of Kairos. His leisurely posture is nothing but a memory, his muscles bulging as his fists grip the counter. His eyes aren't on you this time. They're on Danny. Glaring knives. Like he took something from him.