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Gone Gone Gone-EnglandxReader (Songfic)EnglandxReader
When life leaves you high and dry
I'll be at your door tonight
If you need help, if you need help.
I stood outside of her house in the rain. I had this odd feeling and I always wanted to be there to help her and protect her. I pressed my finger on the doorbell.
Almost immediately, the door swung open, revealing a teen with messy (h/c) hair and wearing a (f/c) t-shirt and jeans. That was (y/n).
"Arthur? What are you doing out here?" she asked, concerned.
"I-um, I-" I stuttered. What was I doing here?
"Well, don't just stand there!" she laughed, "Come on inside! You must be freezing!"
I'll shut down the city lights,
I'll lie, cheat, I'll beg and bribe
To make you well, to make you well.
As she led me inside, I noticed that the place was a mess. The tv had been ripped out of the wall, picture frames missing off of the walls, leaving just lonely nails as reminders.
"What happened?" I asked, startled.
"Oh, right," she said
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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