Addiction

He opens the door and the smell of lattes, cappuccinos, and everything pertaining to coffee hits him in the face. People mill about the Starbucks like ants under a magnifying glass.

William Darcy hates coffee. With a passion. He doesn't like the taste. His lips curl in disgust at the smell. Most importantly, he hates the outrageous prices they deem chargeable for a simple drink. Seven dollar caffeine bomb? Ridiculous.

He also dislikes people in general… but he's had practice dealing with that one. The people whose company he actually enjoy are few and far in between. Whenever he finds an uncommon person, a person possessing all the traits he values, he wants to ensure a friendship with them. He's recently found a person like this but is convinced he wants more than a friendship. He wants a significant other. A girlfriend. A lover. He wants Elizabeth Bennet.

0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0

The first time he saw her was on trip to the coffee shop with his sister. Georgiana needed a latte and thought Will needed some social interaction. She made an excuse to go to the restroom and asked that he order her a latte.

He stood in the line of irksome people. They filled the air with mindless banter of meaningless topics. He didn't care about the weather. He didn't give a sincere thought about the new shoes an obnoxious woman in front of him had recently purchased with her 'Bitchin' alimony check. He honestly couldn't care less about global warming. There was only one thing he hated more than the stupid chatter… the fact he couldn't enjoy things like that.

William Darcy had tried. He had tried to enjoy the mundane, to accept things without meaning could still be meaningful, but in the end it was hopeless. It was as though he had a gauge of irritation in his mind when it came to insipid happenings. Smalltalk hardly registered but was still wearing. It was edging on the side of physical pain whenever he had to speak to Charlies sister. Every moment was full of 'He said, she said' gossip and discussions of the latest trend.

He was relatively young, a man of only thirty years but, in some ways, he felt archaic. People just didn't function quite like him anymore. He craved politeness and found himself starved of all traces. He opened a door for a date once and she just looked confused, like she didn't recognize the gesture. That night made him sad. He felt bad for the girl. No one had ever treated her the way she should have been treated. Ladies first, open the door, pay the check, his father had always told him. Why had all these things been forgotten? Chivalry seemed long extinct.

Mr. Darcy was a true cynic. A true cynic stuck in his ways. That is. . . until he meant the cashier at the local coffee shop.

She lit up the room. Though stuck here, she seemed delighted. Sure she got paid for it but…. She seemed to enjoy him especially. William liked to think she only lit up when she noticed him. He had become a regular, arriving every day before work.

She wasn't especially beautiful. Her nose was a bit flat and her hair quite frizzy. The unruly brown tresses couldn't seem to decide if they wanted to curl of be straight. The skin of her face had dots, freckles, and hastily applied makeup. She had large blue eyes. They were so calm and light they looked grey. She was almost oddly beautiful. Compared to the women he usually dated she was anonymous in the eye of the beauty world.

She looked young but mature. Mid twenties perhaps? He often thought of asking her out. If only he got the chance. She was always in such a rush.

When she took his order, she asked how he was. It was a polite question, not meant to spark a full fledged conversation, just small talk. He enjoyed it. He didn't find it pointless, quite the opposite really, he found in endearing. She didn't know how she made people feel. How her smiles thawed the iciest of New Yorker hearts, or how her soft laughter sparked a reaction of dopamine to his system. She didn't know she was different.

0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0O0o0

Today was the day. Today was the he asked this enigma of a girl to dinner.

He walks to the front of the store. It's practically empty. But, then again, it's six in the evening and no one needs coffee to go to sleep. He knows she works long hours. It makes him sad, knowing that the majority of her day is so lackluster. He takes a deep breath and goes to the counter. He puts his hand out in the gesture of a hand shake.

"I'm William Darcy."

With a confused look, she puts her had up to shake his. His fingers twist quickly and, instead of a hand shake, he holds her palm in his grip. He clutches her hand compellingly, but makes sure not to harm it. Her fingers feel fragile like porcelain, and are worth thousands of cheap cups of java.

"I know it short notice, I know it's crazy but- I need to know if you'll accompany me to dinner tonight possibly?"

With a hesitant smile, she tells him she gets off in ten minutes. Though not completely sure why, she feel as though this man is safe. She's seen him before and sooner than she can stop it, her mind concocts mindless romantic stories. He comes here not for the coffee but for me. He's that prince Jane always told me about. Here to whisk me away. We'd meet somewhere odd, we'd do something crazy, and we'd fall in love. Reason cuts these senseless thoughts short as he smiles. She gives an embarrassed giggle. She's only just met the man.

"Sounds great. I will wait for you, my lady."

So maybe the prince thing wasn't all that far off.

A/N: I'm not entirely sure what this is. I've been really stressed about finals coming up…. Well I guess my writing has turned into a nervous habit. I'm okay with that though. It turns out okay… most of the time. The tenses may get mixed up in the jumble but- actually, no excuse for that one. I'm not sure I like this one or if I should try to keep going. Whenever I try to force more chapters onto something… well it's never as good.

Sorry bout' that.

CHARLIE.

P.S. If you happened to enjoy it (or hate it) I'd love to hear your reviews. I'll answer each one personally.