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It was no secret to anyone from the statehouse that New York’s primary emotion was annoyance.
It’s not like he could help it either, sometimes things came out harsher than he’d meant for them too. Sometimes people were just too idiotic to handle. It was no fault of his own, he tended to tell himself. Normally, when he’d be mercilessly cold, he’d simply brush it off. It wasn’t his job to keep other people’s emotions in check, but when he’d accidentally shut down California while he was speaking about something he particularly enjoyed, New York couldn’t just leave him to mope around.
To New York, California was the equivalent to a wet mop that could get violent in a moments notice. Imagine hitting someone with said mop, he likes to picture. The guy couldn’t seem to catch a break during meetings— hell, not even outside of them either. Forest fires, the constant antagonization of other states (which, to be fair, he started half of the time) and general societal problems galore. And usually, New York wouldn’t care. If it was anyone else, he wouldn’t have cared.
…But part of him felt bad for California.
This was the main reason they were now sitting in New Yorks car, California sitting in the passenger’s seat while he went on about how Florida had decided to mess with him just a couple hours earlier. Traffic was packed, people were being unsafe on the roads, and New York had to resist the urge to scream out his window at passerby’s as to not disturb his companions current ramblings.
“And then, as if everyone else wasn’t bad enough, Te—“ California went on.
New York couldn’t even remember how the conversation had started to begin with. Even now, New York was barely paying any attention at all, nodding along to humor California in his one-sided conversation, but he supposed now would be the best time to start If any. He felt a little bad, to be honest, but everything was starting to become too much. Even the smallest change in Californias tone set him off, yet he did his best to contain any negative feelings— shocker, even for him, and kept calm.. to the best of his abilities, at least.
They were seated at a red light just a few blocks away from the small library cafe California was constantly raving about. Bring up either of the two words and it seemed like he could talk about this specific place for hours. Something about it being ‘quaint’ and ‘local.’
It was safe to say this did not raise New York’s expectations.
He turned his head ever so slightly to gaze at California who seemed to be finished with his speech. He dramatically uncrossed his arms and huffed, pulling out a cherry flavoured chapstick. New York could recognize it instantly, as California was always fiddling with that among many other things during meetings. His sleeve, his opaque orange beanie, his oversized semi rimmed glasses New York was positive he didn’t even have a prescription for. It was silly, really, the way california captivated him so. Maybe a little pathetic, even.
It was, he deemed. A hobbit he needed to lose, and quickly,
..Not that he actually cared, or anything. New York didn’t like California enough to ever pay him much attention. To be fair, he didn’t like California at all, he simply tolerated the other. Tolerating him enough to evasively ask him out to some stupid little coffee shop as some sort of apology for getting upset with him over.. well, pretty much nothing. Overstimulation, maybe? Except he didn’t get that. Ever. Obviously.
Or so he convinced himself on a daily basis.
The light finally turned green after what had seemed like forever and New York readjusted his grip on the steering wheel. He glanced over again, California was being oddly quiet, usually he liked to chat up a storm about anything that came to his mind, most of the time things he shouldn’t say out loud. He was quite the type to overshare, New York had come to the conclusion of. After so many unwarranted comments and life updates, you become accustomed.
“It’s just up here.” California reminded him for what seemed like the hundredth time. A backseat driver, he could be at times.
They were close now. Close enough he’d have to start keeping an eye out for a parking spot. Damn California and his god awful crowd streets, not that New York was much different though. He just liked to nitpick for the hell of it. Might as well deflect his typical unpleasant mood onto something trivial.
California had started talking again, this time abut how he was excited for someone else to finally see the place he held so dearly. New York knew California adored small business.’ In fact, he did everything in his power to constantly help aid in support for them. New York thought that it was a nice sentiment, he had a lot of those along his streets too. It was most likely something they could level with each other on if he ever initiated the conversation… he didn’t necessarily want his passenger to go on another rant, he didn’t know how much more chit chat he could handle.
___
Finally finding a parking spot among the sea of cars, New York had to physically unclench his teeth and take a deep breath. Although he had to wade through people on the daily, it never made it any less unbearable. At least people in New York knew how to drive.. most of the time. Even if they didn’t, he was allowed to yell obscenities at them there. Pushing open the car door, he stepped out only to see California already at the side of the car door patiently waiting for him, smiling.
The walk to the cafe was short and quiet, California occasionally making small talk about the weather or the news, of which New York would also shut down. There was little he liked less than small talk, it was just so unnecessary when silence was a much better option. An unpopular opinion he would gladly die fighting for, as he put it. The sidewalk was littered with people, which wasn’t unusual, but the overall presentation made him feel odd, even after being here so much.
Another block and they’d finally reached California’s beloved library cafe, of which he lit up upon seeing the rustic overhanging sign to. New York internally groaned as a way of shielding himself from California’s over bearing joy over such trivial things. He quickly stepped inside, New York taking a moment to stare at the outside before sighing and also following shortly after. The place wasn’t too bad, he supposed. The interior was very natural, plants were practically flooding the place. A small sitting area stood beside rows upon rows of shelves filled with books. wiping his feet on the doormat out of instinct while california wandered off, the only real criticism he had other then petty annoyances were the lights, they were too bright. It stressed him out, in a way. Big lights like that always did— for some reason he defiantly didn’t feel like getting checked out for.
Another thing he noticed right away besides the monstrous lights was the very prominent sent of mahogany mixed with books. It could have been worse, but he much preferred the smell of New York city’s streets. It was.. well, not good, to be frank, but it was familiar. Home.
California waved to a woman at the counter who was making coffee for another patron. That didn’t seem to stop her from smiling and waving right back at him, equally as enthused. If it wasn’t obvious from his constant chatter about the place, this would definitely be the give away that he came here often. He was sure he’d heard about this woman before, her features were familiar, surely something California described to him on numerous occasions. Long brown hair tied back, ahem tag reading Danielle, he was positive now. They had the same taste in books. He remembers now, random bits and pieces picked up from when he actually decided to tune into Californias roundabout articulation.. (which was NOT often, by the way.)
The woman gave New York an equally pleasant look that he simply nodded too, following California who’d made quick work to the shelves. New York shoved his hands deep into his pockets, reminiscing of old library books that he most certainly had forgotten to return.
Navigating the old sturdy wooden bookshelves would have been much harder if California wasn’t wearing that signature saturated hat of his. The sheer colour of it would be enough to blind him had the sun been shining more clearly today. He was crouched over, knees pressed to his chest and leaning on the tips of his shoes, reading the back of a purple hardcover book. New York could recognize some of the authors he was looking over despite not reading too much. Cliche ones like Jane Austen and Steven King, but there were also people who may have sounded familiar, but he couldn’t picture off the top of his head. Alexandra Kleeman, John Barth, David Brin.
Not that he’d ever actually admit it, New York was actually quite fond of California when he was so infatuated with things like this. Especially when he was being silent about it.
The way the fluorescent lights were ever so perfectly cascaded upon him, he had to admit it was nice. Even if he found it hard to stand them at times.
His shirt sleeves rolled up just enough so New York could capture glimpses of his orange poppy tattoos, all done by different artists in their own unique art styles. It was like a perfect patchwork quilt, always in an unfinished state but perfect either way.
California finally picked up two books after how knows long, but before New York could fully get a good look at the titles, he realized California was staring dead at him. An awkward and apologetic expression was plastered on his face. This snapped New York out of his trance immediately, he stiffened. What was wrong with him now?
“..Sorry.”
That surely threw him of more than anything else could have. New York’s face must’ve scrunched up in confusion, because California stood up straight and waved his hands around in apology.
“This must be hella boring for you, I mean.” California corrected, his cheeks flushing while an awkward smile spread across his face. He stumbled over his words a bit, brain racing too fast for him words to compete with.
California didn’t want New York to get bored. Not many people wanted to hang out with him outside of meetings unless they were attempting to annoy him (cough ,cough, Florida.) He didn’t want to bore New York so much he stopped hanging around him. It was a little silly, but he liked him, even through his depressive outlook on life.
“…” All New York can do is stare, really. “It’s fine.” He finally manages to push out. Even though it’s not much, he can visibly see California’s shoulders lift, his expression returning to the stupidly pleasant one he always carried.. well, when he wasn’t around the midwest, at least.
“They have coffee and snacks here, and, well, t’s one of the main reasons I always come.” He says matter-of-factly, almost reaching up to grab his sleeve, but he stops. California does his best to play it off like some oddly articulated attempt to fix his hair, tucking a strand of it back into his hat. New York recognizes this underwhelming attempt and feels a little bad, though he’s grateful. Multiple other states have learned the hard way not to touch New York, it made him feel like tearing his skin off after. It was hard to explain, almost impossible, but he knew he didn’t like it and would stand by it. California had seemed to pick up on it, and though he quite liked having his fill of unnecessary physical contact, he respected it anyway. It was more than some of the states, at least.
New York managed a nod, tuning in to the fact that California was still waiting for an answer, more anxiously now considering the fact he was awkwardly shifting his weight from side to side. They both walked up to the front counter, now empty.
California made small talk with the worker, except it was a little more personal. Something work related, about her weekend, and whatever else. California ordered for the both of them, he got the same thing New York always got every time he was at some sort of cafe. California and New York had gone out with each other enough times for California to memorize it, which was odd because they’d only ever gone out twice before this. Whatever, it was fine.
He set his books on the counter too and the cashier smiled, scanning them. He pulled out a cheesy leather wallet covered in cheesy tourist stickers from other blue states who defiantly didn’t want them there— and paid for the both of them. New York would have offered, but yet again he tuned out, thinking a little too hard about California. He really needed to stop doing that.
He wasn’t going to address the fact that the sticker right in the middle was a stupid “I love NY,” either. He just wasn’t.
Mismatched golden bangles clattered as he tapped his card. She handed over a black coffee, some sort of much sweeter smelling drink, and a bagged pastry. New York, feeling bad for making him pay (why was he even feeling bad?) he picked up their small tray and they both made their way to the corner of the cafe. It was a little darker over here, curtains pulled open just a bit to let in some natural light. It was nicer, he might be able to handle this a little longer than those god awful fluorescents.
California smiled awkwardly, taking a sip of his drink. “Y’know, I appreciate you coming out here.. uh- with me.”
“..s’ no problem.” New York replied, accent heavy and tone a little less harsh than usual, not wanting to keep that awkward tension up.
That was the most they’d probably get out of each other sincerity wise. Though New York was more obvious about it, California was equally as bad with expressing feelings. They fumbled over things after knowing each other so long, it was cumbersome, difficult, but it worked. It was probably all either of them could handle at the moment. New York didn’t like dawning on it, didn’t like wondering how things would progress, if it would ruin what simplicity they have within their relationship. It worried him at times, but sitting across from California as he chattered on about something Florida had done, some Texas had said, seemingly having lightened up by now.
It was normal, felt normal. New York enjoyed that, or, maybe he just enjoyed California in general. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t dawn on it. It’ll be okay, he thinks.