someone was knocking on his door. more so than that, they were knocking with insistence, they weren't stopping, and they also weren't calling his cell phone. typically, akaashi gave the number out pretty freely, because he did do two separate jobs. as a florist, he didn't get a whole lot of personal calls, but since he did that little thing for the capitol's new designer showcase, he'd been contacted a little more frequently. he wasn't really used to networking, so that was pretty new. he was also not good at it, in the long run. he was charming enough, but his deadpan personality was usually a turn-off for people; it was something he couldn't really help, all things considered. this was just how he was and you either accepted it or didn't. regardless, he was as personable as could be, given his usual demeanor and killer resting bitch face. being nice had nothing to do with how often you smiled, of course--not that akaashi didn't smile, and often enough given the situation, but he was so used to being so straight-faced for the majority of his life, and certainly in his relationship with bokuto-san. not because he thought his friend deserved it, but because if akaashi gave him too much of an indication that he was pleased, then bokuto was going to throw it all out of proportion and turn into an attention seeking fiend. akaashi gave his attention and his praise when he really thought it necessary, and inflating bokuto-san's ego and consistently reassuring him wasn't going to do the other boy any good. then again, impressing the people that wanted to hire him was a good idea; akaashi still couldn't bring himself to be too emotionally open. especially with strangers.
that, however, had nothing to do with the person knocking on his door. they were making a pattern now, a tune he couldn't pick out, and he was pissed. with an early morning tomorrow to do a big floral arrangement for a sample for a wedding, he was not interested in someone trying to get his attention at almost three in the morning. idly, he realized they were definitely at the wrong house, and they were most likely drunk. not something he couldn't deal with, but he was going to turn them away immediately, if that were the case. unless it was a woman, he supposed, because he would surely not cut a drunk woman loose at this time of night. rubbing his eyes and grumbling, he blinked back the fog of sleep and slid from the bed, clenching his teeth. in the event it wasn't a drunkard, and it was actually someone he knew, he was going to have to resist the urge to punch them in the face. usually non-violent, he probably wouldn't actually do it, but he sure as hell felt like he could. akaashi did consider the possibility that it was some kind of emergency, which would be cause for worry, but somehow it didn't feel like it was. there was a lightheartedness to the whole thing, no pounding on his door, and again, no one calling him. then again, if it was a stranger, they wouldn't know him.
almost tripping down the last few stairs, akaashi clucked his tongue loudly and tugged at the shoulder of his shirt as well as made sure his pants were pulled up properly. he should have looked out the peephole first, but his still groggy brain had yet to catch up with rational thought. instead, he unlocked the door, though he had the forethought to keep the chain lock in place as he opened it up only as much as that would allow. "its almost three in the morning," he complained, usually blank expression turning into something that expressed his anger. "what do you want?"