Rating: T (Just to be safe)
Pairing: Tom and Valkyrie
Summary: A Coffee Shop is where I am writing to you right now, and where my tale begins. Cheesy? Yeah sure it's cheesy, but it's true. I'm not gonna lie about it. It wasn't on top of the empire state building, or at a circus or lost at sea, No where strange or interesting, it was on a normal grey day in a coffee shop. But to me? It was a grey day which lead to many colourful extraordinary days. One's of which I'll never forget.
Disclaimer:This is FICTION, No event in this story is real, true or anything in-between. Just sit back relax and enjoy
3rd October 2003
Sat in the top most corner of my favourite coffee shop, (you know the one I mean but for legal reasons can't say or they'll sue my ass) near the window facing the counter. The green and white goddess of coffee staring back from my mug. I loved sitting here, the perfect vantage point to take inspiration for the many imaging in my head.
At the moment in the almost dead coffee shop, an over weight women in a peach tracksuit with matching trainers was talking loudly on her mobile phone, Husband I presume, shouting at him for not feeding the cats this morning before he left for work. A Jeremy Clarkson look-a-like in an old polo shirt and his levi jeans spilling his coffee everywhere as he was ranting to his wife about the cost of petrol.
"Ridiculous ….. Outrageous...BP's COE should be shot! …..Don't get me started on Blair!"
Oh and me, scuffed black Doc Martin's, Black skinny jeans and a slightly too large Greenday t-shirt cut up to look better...Well to me anyway. 18, English and in a world of my own.
Like most of my mornings, I'm sat here scribbling away, minding my own business, watching the world around me move. Noticing my mug was now dry I decided it was time for one last drink. As I approached the I here a usual chortle.
"So venti girl, surprise me, what would you like to drink?" Already second guessing my order, and placing the tea bag in the cup.
"Another tea please" I replied chuckling, scanning my purse for change.
Roxanne, a friend and employee of this recognisable chain. Roxie and me met online on a fanfiction site, both with a flare for the imagination. She mainly read and review, not really one for writing. She read all my work and loved living in side my head as she put it. When it turned out we lived close to each other we became the greatest of friends in a short amount of time. I was her escape to fantasy, she was my anchor to reality.
She was the main reason I chose to come here to write mainly. I needed a change of atmosphere other than staring at a laptop in my room all day, she needed some one the keep her entertained on quite mornings such as this. But now-a-days I was such a regular that I was considering having my post delivered here instead.
"Oh The troubled life of a professional dreamer" Roxie sighed "What's up? Struggling to think of anything?"
"Yup" I moaned "Not a fricking clue, been stuck for days"
She handed me my drink "You'll think of something, It'll hit you soon enough"
The bell rang as the door was opened and Roxie's attention went with it, so I returned to work in my nest: Tea on the table, notebook opened, pen clicked, doodling ensued.
'Tom, I'm so stoked! We got bass and drums covered now, just gotta get the house ready and the rest of the record sorted and we're rolling" A deep, but young northren voice buzzed with excitement.
"Yeah Dan, Brilll, Great lads as well. Can see us getting on with'em well." The Other boy, Tom again guessing, replied. Hearing them place an order, and move to a table by the side of me. "Yeah, mint both of'em. ..But Dougie is it?"
"Yeah Dougie" Tom Said
"He's a bit young, and good looking, bit worries 'bout my pulling chances with him around" The northerner joked
This seem to amuse Tom. "I'm sure you'll still pull Danny, Northern Charm and all that" He chuckled.
Engrossed Overhearing the boy's conversation I let the time slip. It was only when I looked at my phone to check my email I saw the time. 1Pm, I was due at work in an hour, I need to call home and grab my stuff before the 20min trek to the library I worked at, Out of petrol and to skint for the bus this week, The life of a struggling writer.
I Swore loudly and shot up. Downing the rest of my tea, scolding my mouth, quickly I rammed my thinks in to my beat up Van's Rucksack with so much force I nearly knocked over the coffee table and bolted for the door, But hit something on the way, falling backwards and landing flat on my arse. During my doodling and mad rush I had not noticed the one of the boy's had gone to the loo as the other had stood up ready to leave, straight into my flight path. Removing my Long sweeping bangs from my eyes I looked up to see who I'd bumped into. Above me a tall blonde haired boy, about my age, his big brown eyes looked down at me sprawled on the floor. Wow
" Oh My God, Are you OK?" asked the blonde boy.
Definitely not a northern accent, southern perhaps, London May be or a Provence of it. He extended his hands to help me up, I excepted it, turn a warm shade of scarlet .
"Yeah I'm fine" I am of course Lying, I'm mortified "Should of looked where I was going, I'm sorry"
"No worries, do it myself all the time, though it's usually me falling flat on my bum!" He laughed.
A shy smile on my part, I must look a right idiot, but he's looking at me without giving me a chance to look away. He had the deepest molten chocolate eyes and now he was grinning, a sweet smile, not too teethy and just the one dimple, unusual and super cute. T was only brief but it felt like forever.
"oh" something caught his eye, he bent over to pick something off the floor. "Yours?"
My note book in his hands.
"YES!" I said taking it from him, while franticly checking for any other dropped items.
His northern friend returned from the loo. "Tom, On the pull with out your wingman! The Shame!" He said in mock horror.
It struck me I was now running unbelievably late, I scurried past them, only to turn around before I took through the door. Tom was looking after me, Danny elbowing him in the ribs, Tom Looked like he was dying to say something.
"Nice meeting you" I said in one long breath" Bye Roxie!" I shouted, catching a her grinning like a chester cat after me.
As I ran back to my flat my mind buzzed, I never talked to strangers really, I wasn't what you called sociable, Only a few friends, most of my friends lived in the books I read, the stories I clinched to. He was my blot of inspiration. My encounter with the Tom, The brown Eyed boy, was what I needed. The Idea I needed to hit on to. Quite Litterally.