A quick little fluffy/comedic thing to make up for the sad-ass fic I made you guys sit through lmao. In Reinhardt’s pov because why not. Just let the poor man drink his coffee damn it.
No read-more because it’s pretty short as-is.
Reinhardt Wilhelm was a simple man, with simple tastes and simple routines. Every morning, he woke up at 5 am sharp, pulled on a simple white tee and grey shorts, did his morning stretches, and leisurely made his way to the Watchpoint cafeteria. With the facility blissfully quiet in the early morning hours, he always found a peaceful solace in the low rumbling of the cheap, worn out coffee machine as he went through the motions of making his morning brew. The daily routine was his way of grounding himself for the day, mentally centering himself for whatever the day would throw at him.
Which, apparently, was now.
Reinhardt groaned in tired frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose as he heard a clatter from the kitchen, the sound of items being recklessly knocked off a table. Really? Already? It was 5:30 am, for fuck’s sake. It resonated for a bit, followed by silence, as the offending parties attempted to judge whether they’d attracted any attention with the noise.
Taking his coffee mug in hand, Reinhardt sighed as he sat down at his small table in the corner, overlooking the window. Good, hopefully they’d gain some common sense and leave.
Unfortunately he was proven wrong as he heard hushed whispers and the unmistakable sound of kissing from the kitchen. Reinhardt grumbled, upset that yet again his peaceful morning routine had been ruined. “God, I swear, those two think they’re teenagers again.” He took a long sip from his coffee, enjoying the rich taste
before promptly spitting it out in only the most comical fashion. Hold up, was that a fucking giggle?
“You two have a room, you know! I’d recommend using it for once!” Reinhardt roared in the direction of the kitchen, finally fed up with their nonsense.
All noise in the kitchen stopped for a moment, and he was greeted by the simultaneous response of both an exasperated Gabriel Reyes and a meek sounding Jack Morrison.
He continued to drink his coffee in a slightly agitated stupor as he listened to them quietly bicker for a moment, seemingly deciding whether or not to actually use their aforementioned room.
They apparently came to a decision, as a moment later Gabriel emerged from the kitchen, glaring daggers at him and looking very disheveled, his neck covered in angry purple marks. He immediately tugged on Jack’s hand, dragging him in the direction of their room with as much impatience as the man could muster. The equally tousled looking Jack only looked back, mouthing a quick ‘I’m sorry’ with a look of awkward sympathy. Of course, Gabriel just flipped him off in the background right before they rounded the corner into the hallway, disappearing from his sight and leaving him alone in the cafeteria again.
Reinhardt sighed again. It was better than when they were trying to kill each other, he supposed.
i know the picture is SUPER SHITTY (i’ll have a better one soon, i promise) but this year my old high school is doing PIPPIN and i’m going to try and nudge my old director into letting me design his posters and t shirts this year (he’s the teacher i was closest to - even babysat his kids!). i miss being in those shows so much!! pippin would’ve been a really cool show to be a part of!!
anyway this is a draft and i have an ENTIRE portfolio to show him just in case. i’m going to plan my palette for this one in the meantime ^^