Grocery Gang X Reader

Chapter 30

You sighed in disgust. Of course, the suitor to your voice had to be him, who else would suit your quickly deteriorating mood better? 

"So, it is true, you're still working here!" He continued mockingly, and again you didn't respond with more than a look. He couldn't help but smile wider. "I really can't relate to you. You're quite a girl, aren't you?" And finally, he did elicit a response; You grinned back at him smugly. "You're damn right I am. That's why I work here." Letting him bother you would only make the situation worse.

"You've got pride for this job... Do you not want to do something more with yourself? You could be a star with the drive you have."

You wished you wore a look less than anguished.  "I'm sorry," you began to change the labels on the boxes again "I think you misunderstand. I don't envy you, and I don't want to be some 'star'."

For the first time, he looked defeated.

"Suit yourself." He began to walk out of the building, fixing the hat on his head before stopping one last time. "But let me know if you change your mind."

Later in the afternoon, you decided to dedicate your lunch break to calling Fiddlepat. You weren't too hungry anyway. You both hadn't talked, nor seen each other since the tea party. Actually, that was no exception to anyone else either (besides Amazook on rare occasions). You couldn't help wondering where everyone else was.

You dialed his number.

The phone rang once, twice, then again.

You called another time. Twice for good luck. He didn't answer that time either, ringing until it timed out and brought you to voicemail.

"That's it. I've had enough of this." You muttered to no one in particular. It was stupid you were about to go this far, but you assured yourself it was worth it to show you weren't going to give up because of two missed phone calls. 'No one has come in all day, our sign probably isn't even on' you assured yourself.

You walked for what felt like miles out of the way, and eventually found what you were looking for. A queer little purple house on a corner. You almost couldn't wrap your head around what you were doing.

So yes,

You knocked on the door.

You had gone through Amazook's delivery books and found where Fiddle had lived.

No answer.

You knew it was a little strange, but you couldn't help it. You knew he had to of had a package delivered to his house. His address would be there, that you already knew from the beginning.

You knocked again repulsively.

Actually, in all honesty, you memorized his address the first few days on the job.

"That's it! I'm coming in, Fiddle!" You shouted angrily through the door. This whole avoiding you fad was getting old quickly. To your surprise, (although you were gonna find some way in no matter what) the door was already unlocked. And just like the outside of his house, the inside was just as weird. Immediately you shivered, catching wind of the undesirable cold in his house. In fact, it was freezing. Mirrors, some tilted sideways, some normally set on the wall. White and purple were seemingly the theme of his house. You knew you shouldn't have expected more, he only wears white and purple (sometimes pink or blue), this made sense. You didn't have time to analyze more before hearing a noise from a nearby room.

"Are you okay? It's not like you to ignore my cal--"

This was obviously his bedroom, or what used to be his bedroom. Scratches were etched on the walls. There were various broken mirrors on the floor, he sat on his bed, holding a piece of the glass in his hand. He looked up at you, shocked.

"Is this a bad time?" You said sarcastically, your vision wavering around the room.

"It was a worse time to make a joke." He almost whispered back. Maybe it wasn't for nothing though, he had calmed down. His hands were now covered by his sleeves. You tried to act casual.

"What happened in here..?" It was hard to hide your concern. Fiddle fixed his posture, letting his piece of glass drop onto the bed. 

"Just," he changed his mind. "Nothing really. I freaked myself out." He gave you a shaky smile to convince you. It really didn't work. You decided not to speak your mind on his situation and instead nodded. "Do you have a broom?" 

"Thank you for cleaning up the place. You really didn't have to." 

You rolled your eyes irritably, grinning. "A thanks might be telling me what actually happened and not some mumbo jumbo story you made up on the spot." He looked panicked again.

"You wouldn't understand."

"I wouldn't have to."

He grimaced at the ground. "Listen..."

He rolled up his sleeves, revealing dark green hues in his arms. Your eyes widened. 

"I'm getting cured, but those mushrooms at the tea party infected me. I couldn't come to work, I couldn't leave my house... I was just worried I'd hurt you."

You both remained in silence.

"Why did you break your mirrors."

"It just happens now. My arms must have a mind of their own." He laughed sadly, and you couldn't help but ignore the feelings you felt now. You took him by the hands, squeezing them softly. "It's okay. I'm grateful, really..." You paused nervously, taking a step forward. "That's why I," you kissed him, he kissed you back. You both were comfortable here, with this. Kissing really is a beautiful, mutual thing, isn't it? This was different from the flirting you had been doing all this time. It was almost thoughtful.

Finally, you both had to pull away. Breathless, and slightly red.

"How long have you..." He started to say, breathily.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out."

(A/N: Surprise! This is the end though.)