All Nite

02 | Morning People

Bunny loves the morning shift, but that might be because Bunny just loves mornings.

In the spring and the fall, he gets the chance to see the sunrise on his jog in for his shift. Which does mean that he has to commute in the full dark, during the winter, but it isn't that bad. The front windows of the All Nite face east-ish enough that he still gets the sunrise, then. In the summer, he gets up extra early so he can watch the sun come up from the back stoop of the apartment. His roommate Hazel thinks that he's crazy, but she's a night owl. She just doesn't get it.

Most mornings, his shift means that he overlaps with Lusine, at least for an hour or so while she closes out her till.

Lusine...

Hazel calls it a crush. Branwenn and Ariela and Faon all do too, but- it isn't that, really. He just- likes her. She's funny, in a quiet, subtle sort of way. Her hair is always just a little bit messy. She grins with half of her mouth, on the rare occasion when she grins, and-

On one memorable occasion when they found out the stepladder was broken, she had physically hoisted him onto her shoulders to change a light bulb in the dining room. He'd casually insisted, while he was up there, on going ahead and just wiping down the blades of the ceiling fans, too. Y'know. Just- while he was already up there, or whatever.

And all of that is definitely something that Bunny doesn't think of pretty much every time he sees Lusine carry a tray of food out from the kitchen. He doesn't notice her arms, and he certainly doesn't think about the possibility of being tossed over her shoulder.

Nope. Never.

Theoretically it's an awkward situation to be in with a coworker, but- Lusine seems fully and completely oblivious to his attraction, so. It works out. Or, y'know. It isn't a problem.

"It isn't gonna work out until she sweeps you into those arms and just goes for it," Branwenn says, leaning against the counter, and Bunny tries to ignore her as he hums to himself and dances the footwork of his latest choreography across the floor to his next table.

The diner is a semi temporary permanent position, for Bunny. It helps pay the bills in a way his theater work doesn't, and with the morning shifts, he doesn't have to worry about the two really conflicting. It does mean that some nights he doesn't really get the chance to sleep between a rehearsal or performance and his very early morning shift the next day, but it hasn't really been a problem. Not yet, at least. He catnaps in the afternoon, mostly. His social life isn't particularly robust, outside of his friends at both of his jobs, but that's just the cost of doing what he loves, chasing his dream, all those sappy corny assertions that he likes to relish in. Wallow in? He's not sure. Regardless.

He likes the All Nite, anyway. Even besides Lusine, he doesn't think there's anyone who works there that he doesn't at least enjoy the company of a little. Ariela is cheerful and plump and joyful and she feels to Bunny like everyone's favorite aunt. She knows the employees she manages on a very personal level, she pays attention. She cares, which is more than Bunny could say for any other managers he's ever had.

Faon in the kitchen is a bit of a reticent guy, but that doesn't mean he isn't kind. When he does open up, it's always a delight, and his cooking isn't just a job for him, very obviously. Bunny figures that on some level he and Faon are the same; both prioritizing a career in the things they actually enjoy, despite the difficulties or judgment.

Loa and Branwenn- well, they're fun, for sure. Branwenn matches Bunny's energy, which is sometimes a problem, but only when Loa isn't on shift, too, to mellow the both of them out and make sure they don't get carried away.

(Though- Bunny still thinks that a musical set in the diner would be a spectacular idea. He can't write a lyric or a tune for shit, but he has a lot of countertop and booth-based choreography spinning around in his head that he can't shake, ever since they spiraled thinking about the idea a few weeks ago.)

Bunny even enjoys the customers. Usually. Most of the time.

Morning shift means some level of grumpiness, usually. There are loners who come through just looking for coffee and the quickest meal they can shove in their bodies before their own workday starts, and there are also folks with standing breakfast dates, and folks who seem more like Bunny. Morning people, who just want to get an early start with a good meal, and the All Nite is, in Bunny's personal professional opinion, the best meal in town.

The loners take effort, in their own way.

There's this one person who comes in most weekdays, with a streak of white in their dark hair and a persistent bored annoyance on their face. Bunny knows that they're some sort of shifter, but he doesn't know what kind and it's not the sort of thing that's polite to ask about. Their name is Caoileann, which Bunny only knows how to spell because he's lucky enough that they pay with a bank card now and again. He would have assumed Kaylen or something otherwise, because he's a philistine. It's Irish, or- maybe Scottish? Again, he's a philistine. He doesn't know much about... like... accents or geography. He's a dancer! He doesn't even do acting, if he can avoid it, so different voices aren't even in his wheelhouse.

He assumes that Caoileann is here before a nine to five, or something close. Black tea always, and some sort of protein-heavy breakfast while they slow-blink themself awake in a booth by the window. They seem to like to watch the birds, which maybe possibly prompted Bunny to bring in a hummingbird feeder that suction cups to the window, just... y'know. Because. He mixes up some new food for it once a week, and Faon doesn't even grumble about sharing the kitchen for a half hour or so anymore. Which is a bonus! The other bonus is the way that Caoileann's eyes track the little palm-sized birds outside while they eat. Bunny gets to watch them watch them, and they get to watch the birds. Win win. Win! An extra one for the hummingbirds, too.

When he approaches them with the bill today, though-

They catch the way his eyes linger on the feeder, and their own eyes narrow.

"Did you put that up?" they ask, their voice bouncing on the you in an interesting way. An interesting way that it takes Bunny a few seconds to recognize as vaguely suspicious. He blinks, gingerly sliding the bill onto the table rather than trying to hand it directly to them.

"Ahhhh... yes? I got a new one this spring because I couldn't find that one when I was unpacking all my yard and window junk, so obviously I found it the day after I made a purchase, and-"

"This is where I always sit," they say.

Bunny feels... oddly as if he's done something wrong? Something about their tone is verging on socially terrifying. "Yeeees?" he says, drawling out the word with confusion. "I did notice that?"

They look at the feeder, then slide their extremely green eyes towards Bunny for a half second before they flick away. "Is that... some sort of joke."

"Joke?"

"A joke," Caoileann repeats, more firm. With a little more hiss in their tone. Bunny tries not to flinch, considering that he still has no idea what the hell is going on with this particular interaction. "A joke about my- my entire-"

They go quiet, gesturing down, as if at their entire body. Their entire self? It's hard to tell. Bunny follows the gesture, looking at Caoileann's well-worn flannel underneath their equally well worn fur-collared jean jacket. The look doesn't reveal much of anything. He glances back to Caoileann's eyes, which- narrow, suspicion and a hint of anger. Bad sign, bad sign.

"I... feel like I'm missing something," Bunny admits, his shoulders deflating, his face preemptively pulling into a wince. "Did I... is it bad? Do you not like them? It seemed like you like them. The birds, not the feeder."

Caoileann opens their mouth, and then shuts it again, frowning. "You don't. Know," they say, stilted, and Bunny shrugs with his palms open. "Really you don't?"

"I... don't even know what it is that I'm supposed to know," Bunny says, spreading his hands out. "I am extremely not the brains of this operation, I should mention." He pauses, then lifts one arm in a faux bicep curl. "I'm actually the muscle."

Caoileann doesn't laugh, but their nose twitches in an incriminating sort of way. "Right," they say slowly. "Right."

Bunny pauses, pretending not to feel awkward as Caoileann tugs out their wallet to actually deal with the bill between them. "Are you... gonna tell me what I did wrong, though?" Bunny tries, a bit self conscious about the uncertainty in his tone. "If I don't know how I messed it up, I'm a bit worried I'll manage to do the same again. Or do the same differently. Or do a different thing but with the same effect."

"You didn't- do anything wrong," Caoileann sighs, glancing up from where they're hopefully still calculating a tip, and not just deciding which manager to complain to, the overnight or the day shift. "Don't worry about it. It's fine."

It's definitely not fine, but Bunny knows better than to confront that particular deflection head on. Nope. He just nods, first, and then pauses after he picks up their bill and the cash he'll need to make change from. "I just... it seemed like you enjoyed watching the pigeons on the sill, and the sparrows that like to hop around in the parking lot," he says, keeping his tone light, moving his hands as if he needs to bother much with counting the money. And, also, pretending not to notice the way Caoileann's cheeks stain very pink, at that. "I thought maybe you liked birds, and... so I thought it would be nice if you could see more birds. That's all. I'm sorry if it-"

"Don't," they say, waving a hand with a wince. "Please don't do that."

"Do..."

"Apologize. Don't."

Bunny bites his lip, for a second or two. "Do you... not like birds, then? Is that the problem? Were you just watching them because you really really hate them and you're practicing to try to explode them with your mind?"

They actually snort at that, an undignified half-second laugh, and Bunny feels it like a victory, confetti and all. "N-no," they say after a beat, shaking their head. "Not- no. I like- watching birds, yeah. Enough. It's... instinct. Maybe."

Bunny feels momentarily glad that Caoileann's usual booth is close to one of the registers, and he nods as amicably as possible as he retreats the step and a half to make change, lickety split quick, and then he comes back and flaps the money back onto the table before he leans into the booth, hooking one knee up on the seat across from Caoileann and half-sitting.

"Wh... what are you doing," they ask flatly.

"Still trying to figure out where I messed up," Bunny says, feeling himself pout without meaning to. "I kinda maybe sorta thought you were actually warming up to me, and then I apparently messed it up with sugar water somehow."

"You didn't mess it up," Caoileann insists, their accent thickening just slightly with distress. "I just-" they huff, clenching their hands into fists on the table before they pull them back, balling them in their lap instead. "I'm a cat, alright? I turn into a goddamn cat, so I'm a bit- I don't like thinking about- half the reason I like watching the birds is because part of me wants to eat them."

Bunny stares, realizes that he's staring with his face doing something he isn't sure about. "But," he says, "you don't actually eat them. Right?"

Caoileann looks... outright stunned for a half second, and Bunny panics.

"That was a joke that was a joke that was a very bad joke that I very much regret, sorry, sorry about-"

Caoileann's nose scrunches and they huff, rolling their eyes. "I know," they interrupt. "I know because my sister makes that same stupid face when she tries her hand at comedy." They pause for a beat, then say, "I know you don't know her, but I'm still gonna say for the record, don't tell her that I know when she's joking. Half the fun is pretending I don't have a clue."

Bunny relaxes, his shoulders sinking and his body leaning more heavily against the booth. "Pinky swear," he says, tone serious despite his grin, and then he holds out a hand.

Caoileann blinks at him, then exhales as their lip twitches with what Bunny hopes is a suppressed smile. They lift a hand of their own, locking pinkies with a quick little squeeze and then pulling their hand back, shaking their head. "Hmph. Eileen would like you, I think."

"Flattered," Bunny singsongs, grinning.

Caoileann eyes him, more appraising than wary. "I... your name is..." they give a self deprecating smile when Bunny looks towards them. "Not the best with names, sorry."

"S'alright," Bunny says with a shrug. "I don't know if I ever actually introduced myself. Maybe the first time you came in, but I don't know. It's Bunny."

They eye him again, a little more skeptical. "Is that... you're...?"

Bunny snorts. "I'm not a shifter, no. I'm not much of anything, really, at least not magically. Branwenn says I have the "vibes" for some sort of hedgewitchery, the will, or something? But I'm pretty much woefully nonmagical. My name is just Bunny."

"Caoileann," they say, and Bunny doesn't point out that he already knows. "I should have known you weren't like me. Can usually smell it, or- feel it? I don't know how it works, really."

Bunny tilts his head. "No one taught you?" he asks, and then he mentally kicks himself when that makes Caoileann wince. "Though-" he forces a laugh. "Cats don't really have packs like the canines, do they? I guess it's probably different. Though- prides? That's lions, but I don't know how that translates."

"Colony," Caoileann interrupts, the discomfort on their face fading into something more like resigned amusement. "Wildcats live in colonies, if they live together. Feral cats too."

"Which are you?" Bunny asks without thinking, and then the mortification squeezes his throat.

Caoileann- bursts out laughing, though, hiding their face behind a hand as they try to control themself. "Domestic," they say eventually, still snickering. "At this point? Fully domestic. Still have a colony, I suppose, but- it's just the two of us."

"You and your sister?"

"Me and my sister," Caoileann confirms, an actual smile tipping their mouth. "All the family I need."

Bunny smiles too.

"Sorry about," they wave their hand towards the window instead of elaborating. "Just... I don't know. I don't know why I thought it'd be malicious."

Bunny has a few ideas, mostly to do with whatever colony Caoileann originally came from.

"No harm," he says instead, shrugging. "So long as you like the birds, it's still a win."

"I still don't... understand why, but... it's nice of you."

Bunny does some mental calculations of (casual kindness) plus (lack of ulterior motives) equals (inability to believe), and tucks that note away for later. "Hey," he says, giving another shrug. "It means I get to see the birds, too. They're pretty."

Caoileann glances to the window, lip twitching with a very small smile. "Well. Can't argue with you there."

"You should bring your sister in, sometime," Bunny suggests, feeling impulsive. "Maybe she'd like the birds, too. And if I know Ariela, you might get some free pie out of it, too, if the kid is cute. I bet the kid is cute."

"Damn straight," Caoileann says, apparently startled in at least two directions considering the wideness of their eyes. "Or- I mean, yeah. She's a cute kid. She-" Caoileann hesitates, glancing Bunny over in a way that makes him blink. "You... you're a dancer? Or do you just like dancing? I've seen you bounce around the dining room here, I just wasn't sure..."

Flattered flattered flattered, Bunny grins. "I'm a dancer, yeah." He pauses. "Wait, why, exactly?"

"My sister is in cheer and gymnastics and all that. Maybe I will bring her in, I'm sure you'd have plenty to chat about. Nothing I'll be able to follow past the shallowest bit, but. Might be nice."

"I know some youth programs," Bunny says, a little surprised. "Some connected with my job, some just in the area. If she's interested in some theater stuff, too."

Caoileann raises an eyebrow. "Hm. Maybe, maybe so. We'll see, I guess."

"Bunny, table four?"

Bunny jumps at Ariela's voice from the counter, then spins with a wince to give an acknowledging wave.

"I'm keeping you," Caoileann says, and then they sigh and reach to grab their wallet. "Well, I'll be around, either way. I've usually got an hour between when I drop the kid at school and when my shift starts, so."

Knowledge unlocked, Bunny thinks vaguely, nodding. "Well, I'll be here! Take care."

They give a half smile and nod as they slip from the booth, waving with a hand as they turn, leaving Bunny to bolt off to his next table. Ariela hands him some menus as he passes by, her eyebrow raised.

"If you're going to be getting a date on the clock-"

"Not what that was," Bunny trills, smiling. "Their kid sister dances! Got distracted. Sorry!"

Ariela shakes her head. "Just go take them! Go go go go, go, you're fine. Silly thing."

Lusine is rewriting an order for her own table when Bunny stops by the kitchen to put his in. He raises an eyebrow, and she rolls her eyes.

"They changed their minds enough times that the original is fucking indecipherable. Needed another pass."

Bunny grins, tearing the carbon copy off his order pad without fanfare. "I got easy street. Old couple, matching orders. It was cute, actually. I think she's going to give him her strawberries."

"You always seem to get the cute ones," Lusine grumbles, narrowing her eyes at her sheet with a furious sort of focus.

"Like attracts like," Bunny singsongs, gratified when Lusine's mouth pulls into a helpless smirk.

"Goddamn dork," she says, and Bunny prefers to think that she sounds fond. Honestly, he doesn't entirely know why the casual insult delights him - enough to make his cheeks heat, even, - but he isn't complaining.

"Big plans for the rest of your day?" he asks after a beat, knowing full well that the extent of Lusine's plans post-shift are nearly always to sleep.

She shoots him a look, because they've slipped into an I-know-you-know situation, but she just sighs after a moment, reaching to run a hand through her short dark hair. She grimaces, then, finishes her ticket and slaps it in for the cooks, and then she turns to wash her hands. "Big plans," she echoes, more sarcastic than playful. "Huge. Enormous. Put myself in a crate and pass out, ideally."

"Ideally?" Bunny asks, eyebrow climbing, and Lusine grimaces again.

"Realistically, then."

Bunny hums, tipping his face in a way he hopes is surreptitious towards the calendar and trying to do some math. "Is it... that close to the moon already?" he says, tone light. "I didn't realize."

"It-" she grumbles something indecipherable, drying her hands. "No, it isn't quite... it's another week. Or so."

The particular way she says "or so" makes Bunny feel pretty confident that Lusine actually knows her time frame down to the minute. He nods. "I really should pay more attention to that sort of thing, working here. Like a solid third of the staff and customers are concerned with lunar cycles for one reason or another. It just doesn't occur to me to think about because I'm so damn mundane. I only notice the moon because it's pretty."

He realizes that he's rambling maybe two sentences too late. He realizes that he must have rambled something very wrong another half second after that. She looks- almost grim.

And- of course she does. Being a werewolf isn't something Lusine asked for, and- it's not exactly something that she's enthusiastic about.

"Must be... nice," she says, voice uncomfortably blank. "Not to have to pay attention to things... things like that."

Well. Fuck.

"I-"

"Bunny," Ariela calls from the far side of the counter. "Can you grab table seven?"

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"I didn't," he tries again, not really sure what he's going to say, but Lusine shakes her head.

"It's fine. You didn't mean it like that. It's fine."

"But-"

"Table three, also?" Ariela's voice is apologetic, now. "Heath is late again."

Bunny wrinkles his nose, because ohhhh Heath that motherfucker is going to Hear About This, but when he turns to try apology attempt number three, Lusine has already slipped away to go grab the coffeepot for another run-around, and he's just- standing there, not quite doing his job. Great.

He sighs, pushes his own verbal fuckups out of his head for now, and goes to take care of the first sprinklings of the breakfast rush.

And Heath better get his ass in quick, or else.

(The "or else what" being nebulous and maybe toothless, considering, again, Bunny's utter and complete lack of arcane affiliation. But that's fine. The sentiment is still there.)

He doesn't manage to catch up with Lusine again before she disappears at the end of her shift. Which- she's living in the apartment above the diner, currently, because of some deal she has with Ariela, but- it's not like Bunny is just going to go knock on his own lunch break or something. She's likely sleeping, and he's not that much of an idiot.

By the time things mellow out again between the breakfast and the lunch crowd (just gotta get through lunch, and then freedom, freedom to go home and continue to freak out about his social failures), he's fairly well run himself through all the ways he could have handled that interaction better. Easy change: don't fucking brag about how he doesn't have to give a shit about the moon. Easy change! Just that! That's something! Alternatively, he could try a little trick called basic sympathy. Ooooooooh. How exotic and unexpected.

He shoves three tables in a row at Heath in fair compensation for having been left in the lurch this morning, and then ducks into the back, closing the office door behind him to do some box breathing and stretches, cooling himself down with warmups.

Bunny's problem, generally: just... not fucking thinking. Before he speaks, yeah, but also just... generally. He doesn't think. He says something careless. He doesn't think. He does something impulsive. He doesn't think. He spaces on a responsibility.

It's amazing, really. Bunny isn't generally down on himself, he knows his better qualities and he's gently proud of them, but-

Amazing. He can be kind and funny and sweet and clever and an enormous fuckup all at the same time.

"In the way, little rabbit."

Bunny fully jumps at Faon's voice behind him, and without really thinking about it he rolls over the manager's desk to get out of the way, somehow not disturbing any of the paperwork. Miracle.

"Faon!" he says as he pops back upright with a little bounce. "I thought you were out of here hours ago!"

"Should've been," he says, one sinewy shoulder rolling in a shrug. "Russ called in. I stayed until they could pull some backup. Why the hell'd you jump that far, rabbit?"

Bunny pouts, because- "Aw, come on, don't point it out," he mumbles, rubbing at his cheek. "Instinct? You spooked me, and my body is used to jumping."

Faon grins, at that, showing more of the sharp teeth in his muzzle than he usually does. He turns away from Bunny, then, starting to fiddle with the timeclock on the wall. "Bunny rabbit," he says in a light rumble. "Startled by the local lizard."

"Oh my goodness, everyone is so mean to me all the time," Bunny announces, folding his arms over his chest as Faon chuckles. He doesn't hold the faux indignity for more than a few moments, though, shifting to lean against the desk instead.

"What are you upset about, little rabbit?"

Bunny blinks. "Being snuck up on, obviously?"

Faon shakes his head, then glances sideways towards Bunny, a sliver of green visible in his eye from this angle. "Not that. Something else. Don't usually find you hiding."

Bunny opens his mouth, decides better of it, and closes his mouth again with a huff, resettling his arms across his chest in a more forceful way. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says, already internally wincing at how completely not persuasive he sounds.

"Mm," Faon says, still writing out his times. "Breathing exercises because everything is fine."

Bunny stews, for a few moments. If he had hackles to raise, they would certainly be raised. But- again. Only for a moment, and then he sighs. "I fucked up with Lusine, I think? Which shouldn't surprise me, really. I am just... socially, socially I am just a complete disaster. If I wanted her to keep thinking of me as an inoffensive, vaguely likeable coworker, I shouldn't have tried to talk to her more than I already do. Bad plan! Bad plan altogether, but then again- it wasn't a plan, it was just- a conversation. A conversation I fucked up. Of course. Why wouldn't it be? I was involved in it."

"Rabbit," Faon says firmly, and Bunny suppresses the growing babble. "Fucked up how."

Bunny sighs. "Mentioned how I don't have to pay attention to moon cycles? In maybe the worst context for mentioning it?" He reaches to scrub a hand through his hair, frowning. "Mouth shut is a position that would serve me better nearly always, and yet I continue to not take the option when it is always, always available to me. Great job, jackassrabbit!"

Faon frowns. "Don't be cruel. No cause to be that to yourself."

"I think it might be the only way I learn," Bunny mumbles, pressing his face into his hands.

"Has it ever taught you before?" Faon says quietly, and Bunny is surprised to feel Faon's clawed hand rest on his shoulder. "Ever done anything but make you miserable until the next time you feel you've fumbled?"

Bunny keeps his face buried in his hands. It's just safer, that way. "I don't feel I've fumbled, I just fumble. I know she's not okay with the wolf thing and then I say that ? What's wrong with me?"

Another hand on his other shoulder, scaled palms chafing in an almost paternal way. "Too hard on yourself, seems to be the current issue."

Bunny drops his hands enough to glower over his fingers at his much larger coworker. "Not what I meant and you know it."

"No, what you mean is another way to bully yourself," Faon says, still frowning. "Which is easier than the alternative, rabbit."

"You know my name is Bunny, right?" Bunny says, not quite snapping but not quite not, either. Faon takes his hands from Bunny's shoulders, either deciding the moment is over or reading his face correctly.

"Nickname," Faon says, as if that's a fine enough explanation, and Bunny scowls.

"You can't nickname on a nickname," he insists stubbornly, folding his arms over his chest and tapping a foot. "That's just recursive. And silly!"

Faon blinks, slow and almost laborious, his expression very blank. He tilts his head, and Bunny tries not to read the motion as vaguely predatory, considering the teeth and the eyeshine. He seems to hesitate, his tongue running over one of his canines before he says, very slowly, "Bunny is not... your name."

Considering the inflection, Bunny doesn't realize that it's a question for an extra moment or two. "... what?"

"Bunny. It is not your name?"

Bunny blinks, shakes his head, blinks again, and then he snorts, not quite a laugh. "My name is Harold," Bunny says. "Technically."

Faon narrows his eyes, glancing down and then back up in obvious appraisal. "... you do not look like a Harold," he says slowly.

"Hence the nickname!" Bunny exclaims, throwing his hands up in frantic gesticulation. "I don't even think Bunny is a real name!"

"I... assumed it was just the name that you chose," Faon says, and, well-

"Well," he says. "It is? Was? Is?"

"Bunny is the name you prefer," Faon says, in that same flat inflection that makes recognizing questions a challenge.

"Yes? No one calls me Harold."

"So it is your name," he says again, nodding firmly.

"Yes," Bunny says, and then he shakes his head. "No- I mean, it-"

"Nickname is fine, then." Faon grins. "If it is your name. And if not, nickname on a nickname. Also fine."

"That's just silly," Bunny pouts, bouncing his head with the words, and then he pauses. Blinks. And then opens his mouth to gape for a moment or two. "You! Distracting me! Trying to- to-"

"Prevent you from bullying yourself," Faon confirms, nodding. "Get to know you better, at the same time. Call that a win win."

"It still doesn't fix the fuckup," Bunny insists. "Doesn't make anything better!"

Faon cocks his head to the side again, his liquid dark eyes appraising again. "Doesn't make anything worse. Unlike what you were doing. There are degrees, aren't there? You were making yourself feel worse. Doesn't make anything better either."

Bunny scowls. He doesn't like that particular logic, mostly because it seems very difficult to argue with.

"Well," Bunny says after a beat. He knows this is going to be an obvious change of subject and attempt to disengage from the conversation, but damn the torpedoes and all that. If he sells it with enough confidence, maybe it will land anyway. "I only came back here to take my break, and I'm definitely past the grace period on that, so if I don't want to extremely lose this job, I need to get back on the floor. And you were clocking out, so! Don't let me keep you."

"Wasn't," Faon says, watching Bunny flit to the other side of the room without making any visible attempt to stop him. "Don't let me keep you," he continues, inflection almost amused, though it's difficult to tell through the gravelly tone. "Run off, little rabbit."

"Bunny," Bunny insists as he slips out the door again, but-

He's already decided that he doesn't mind. Not really. Nickname of a nickname... is pretty cute, actually. Very much his vibe, if he's being honest.

"Has Faon always called me rabbit?" he asks Kit as he pulls his apron back on by the front counter, and zie raises an eyebrow at him as zie tips zir head.

"Isn't he the overnight guy?" zie asks, reaching to fix zir headband and push zir hair back. "I don't know if I've ever actually talked to him."

Bunny sighs, rolling his eyes. "Nevermind."

"Do you want me to call you rabbit?" Kit asks, sounding utterly sincere, and Bunny scowls.

"Absolutely not. I think he just doesn't get nicknames."