FOR AN ETERNITY
Chapter 1: Mr. Americano
| H's POV |
"One small green tea latte!"
I said loudly among the busy café behind the counter. Typical for a Saturday afternoon. I worked here part-time and it was a a great job, especially the tips. Got to put a dent in my college tuition somehow, right? I was an aspiring musician aiming to get a music therapy degree in case all else goes wrong like all of us starving music people. On the weekend evenings, I play guitar and/or piano and sing in the local bar. I've known the owner since I was a kid because he happens to be my father's best friend.
"Thank you," the lady smiled as she picked up her green tea latter, knocking me out of my deep thoughts.
"Enjoy and have a good day," I smiled back.
"You too!"
Now to make that stupid Americano again.
There's this customer that always orders it. Every Saturday. At exactly 4:05pm. I just happen to work the 12:00pm to closing hours Saturdays so I see him weekly. All he orders is that and I have yet to see him try anything else. He wasn't necessarily a bad person it was just a bit weird that he would keep up this weekly routine. My coworkers have begun to tease me he comes in just to see me and I would retort back that he's in it for the Americano only.
"Medium Americano! Honey and milk on the side," I grumbled over my breath, "you know who you are."
He stood up and walked towards the counter. I gulped. There was something about this presence that screamed intimidating and powerful. Is he secretly a gang member? Gang leader even? I wouldn't be surprised, frankly.
"Thanks Hermione," he precariously picked up his usual coffee and nodded towards me before heading out the door, pulling his hood over his messy dark locks.
Somebody nudged me and giggled.
"Oh my god, he knows your name too! Correctly too!"
I groaned. "Shut up, Lav. It's nothing special."
She pouted and adjusted her blonde high ponytail. "Uh huh. Who else would always come every week? I think he's into you, honey!"
"I don't think so," I scoffed and began to wipe the counters, "and, honestly, I couldn't care less."
"Why not?! You always act so cool. Girl, I don't get it... do you like want to die alone?"
I laughed.
"I mean, it doesn't sound too bad," I muttered.
Lavender frowned.
"This is why you're still single."
"I'm happy alone and it's totally fine to be independent," I argued back, getting a little annoyed at my coworker.
"Whatever you say! He's a catch too and you know it," she said before heading over to the coffee machine to make more orders.
Lavender wasn't lying. Mr. Americano was quite the looker. He had dark wavy hair often messy framing his dark face. He had dark brown eyes and high cheekbones as well as full lips. A killer jawline and flawless skin. Standing tall at 6'3". He could probably be a a model if he wanted to. Similar to his coffee, he wore the same outfit. Black leather jacket with an attached black hood. Dark gray fitted jeans with a side chain and white sneakers. A silver watch on his left wrist and several matching silver rings on his long fingers.
I shook my head.
Even if he was good looking, I would never pursue it.
Because love is dead in my books. I am better off not pursuing such unrealistic fantasies.
Sighing, I called out to Lavender, "I'm going on my thirty! Don't slack off when I'm gone."
"Gotcha!"
I walked outside and sighed, rummaging my pockets for a cigarette and lighter. Yes, I know these are bad for me. Yes, I know I should quit but meh. If I died tomorrow, I'd be fine with it. I finally found one and held it in my mouth as I lit one up, using my free hand to shield the flame from the breeze. I took a puff and exhaled, watching the cloud disperse into the air.
"That's bad for you."
I almost jumped and looked to my right.
Speak of the devil, there he was. Mr. Americano?
"I know," I eyed him suspiciously. "Why are you still here?"
"Am I prohibited from doing so?" He raised an eyebrow and leaned against the wall beside me, our shoulders separated by only a few centimeters.
"Not really, just wondering."
"I see."
"Why do you always order Americano anyway?"
He looked at me and gave a small smile. "Once I know what I like, I stick to it. For a long time."
"Fair enough."
"Have you always been working at Café au Lune?"
I blinked at his perfect French accent. I wasn't expecting that at all.
"Just over a year now."
"Your name is beautiful just like the cafe."
My mouth opened in surprise.
"H-how do you know that?"
"A little bird told me this morning," he answered.
"You're just shrouded in mystery, aren't you?" I ridiculed him, shaking my head in disbelief.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I wouldn't say I am. People just aren't as perceptive."
"Oh? What's your name?"
"It's Blaise. Blaise Zabini."
"Nice to meet you."
"Where are you from? I've lived here in England my whole life."
"Same here."
"Cool. Can you speak any other languages besides English?"
"Yes. Just French and a little Latin. You?"
"I'm a bit of a wannabe linguist," he scratched his neck, "I know Italian, Japanese, Mandarin, and Spanish. English too, of course."
"Wow. That's kind of impressive," I breathed out.
"You think? It comes with the industry I work in," Blaise said bitterly. "Anyway, I have to go. I hope to talk to you again, Hermione. Good day."
"See you next Saturday."
What a strange fellow.
A/N: Ok so there's probably gonna be little to no magic in this fanfic, I wanna try something different :^) I don't really know whether I'll ship Hermione off to Blaise, Draco or Tom so it's a free for all right now hahah please leave a review and let me know what you think!