Summary: Amu is working late at a coffee house. It was supposed to close an hour ago, but one blue haired man says otherwise. One shot.
Here's my lame attempt at a one shot :p But at least I can sleep at night knowing I have completed another fanfic :)
There are lyrics from the song I'll Be in this story, so no claim to them! But sometimes it won't be obvious as to where they will appear, so just note :3
"One Mocha coffee, granda," I called out into the small coffee house. It was nearly midnight now as I rubbed at my eyes, struggling to keep them focused on the text book hidden under the counter. Nadeshiko had agreed to close up shop early today, so I could study for my midterm, but we still had one customer left.
"One mocha coffee, granda." My attempt at capturing his attention seemed to fail.
Why don't you just leave? I inwardly groaned, cramming what information I could from the textbook as I waited. I really needed to go home and sleep now, unless I wanted that to happen while I was driving, or better yet, inside the store where a register waited.
But the man wouldn't leave. Nadeshiko had even given him a ten minute warning to our initial closing time, which was eleven, and the man had seemed to have no problem with that earlier. But after that I had convinced Nadeshiko to leave early, claiming I could close the store easily after the man left, yet here I was, shouting, "one mocha coffee, granda" over and over again like an utter moron, to no avail.
I sighed, closing up the textbook and stashing it in my backpack. I couldn't hold the store open any longer.
Time to take initiative, Amu. I thought to myself, picking up the coffee and approaching the man.
He didn't notice me at first as I stood awkwardly in front of him. He was too busy searching something on his lab top; his face glued to the screen that I had never really gotten a good look at his face.
I cleared my throat, and he looked up.
He's cute. I summed up, blushing when he finally met my gaze. He had the darkest blue eyes, never to reveal their depth. His hair was tousled, in a sort of, I-don't-give-a-crap-about-bed-head way, yet it seemed to give his features a certain edge. Even with him sitting, I could tell he was tall, dressed head to toe in black, like some sort of goth or punk.
Looking into his eyes, and assessing him for the first time, I realized he must have been only a couple years older than me.
My throat suddenly dried, as I quickly cleared it again. He raised an eyebrow expectantly, and I held out the drink.
"One mocha coffee, granda," I said the stupid phrase again, too tongue tied to say something along the lines of, "Why are you still here" or "Get the hell out".
He stared at my outstretched hand for a moment, before returning back to his computer. I stood frozen, feeling more like an idiot than I had for saying that stupid phrase over and over again. I waited, hoping he was just taking the time to shut down the lab top, but I knew that wasn't true.
I set the drink on the table in front of him.
"Look," I started, and when he didn't, I closed his lab top. He stared up at me now, a glare evident on his features, but I continued anyway. "I know you've probably never been here before, but we were supposed to close an hour ago. We can't just make exceptions to certain customers, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
I picked up the drink again, the whip cream almost completely dissolved now, before holding it out to him.
This time, instead of staring at my hand like last time, he met my gaze. There was something different about the way he held his eyes to mine. He finally stood up, forcing me to crane my neck up just to keep locked on his gaze.
He left wordlessly. I stared as he walked out the door, before remembering the drink in my hand.
"Crap!" I ran out after him, hoping to catch him before we got too far from the empty shop.
It was a regular December day, the air whipping around that it stung my cheeks cold and immediately left my chest burning. I quickly found the guy walking to the parking lot.
"Wait, hold on!" I yelled, rushing and stopping in front of him. He raised another curious eyebrow as I held out the drink once more. "Don't forget your drink!" I proclaimed and when he didn't say anything, I continued. "I mean, you already paid for it. Not taking it would just be stealing."
My whole body was shivering now, for my lack of grabbing a coat before chasing after the customer. My fingertips and hands burned numb as I waited for him to take the cold, plastic container, and finally let me leave. Finally let me sleep. Finally let me return to the warm room of the coffee shop.
He accepted the drink, but not before his warm, big hand slid into mine, handing me cash.
"D-Don't give me –" I was about to argue, before figuring out it wasn't money he had given me. Instead, a torn piece of paper rested in my palm with two sentences written across it.
I'm a usual customer here. The reason I didn't leave was because of you.
I'm not quite sure what I was trying to get across in this one shot lol. But I thought it was somewhat cute so I posted it. Comments?