A/N: Hello! This is a one-shot set in the GMW college years. It is an AU, because who doesn't like AU's? I hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Note: Maya and Lucas are around the ages of 20.
08.17.2015 update: I rewrote this fic, trying to get a bit more into details. Hope you'll enjoy!
Coffee-stained paper
Lucas Friar never thought that a blonde-haired, blue-eyed she-devil could change his life forever. Which is why that the first night he saw Maya Hart walk into the café, he tried not to give her too much thought.
He could tell that she was very beautiful and that she knew about it; anyone with eyes would think so. He tried telling himself that she was just like the others, a passing face that won't matter in a couple of years.
But she came back.
She would always sit at the same table every time she came – the table in the right corner, where she had a perfect view of the whole café and the busy street. She would always come in at around ten and would sit there until one. The café would usually be empty at that hour of the night, except for the occasional customer and the cashier. She had never learned his name, and he didn't know hers. But they would talk until he had to close the café, and she would always be back the following night.
He loved talking to her. She was cold and distant at first, but with time, she started warming up to him. She was mysterious, she was complex, and she was a mystery he dreamed to solve.
Whenever he would think about her or talk to her, he would always refer to her as "May". She once asked why he called her May, and his answer was simple: He thought it suited her well. It was mostly because he was a simple man, and May was the month they had met.
He remembered the first night he met her. She came in, blonde hair a tangled, wet mess due to the rain. She was hiding a big pad in her jacket – which he asked her about later. She had told him that it was her sketch pad, and that she would die if her drawings got ruined; claimed she needed them for a class the next day.
She remembers the smile on his face as he poured her another cup of coffee, clearly trying to get a look at her drawings. He intrigued her.
As for her, she would refer to him as Merlin. But she would never say his name out loud, not in front of him or anyone else for that matter. He reminded her a bit of Merlin from the show she had most recently been binged-watching. He was very closed and enigmatic about himself, and would never answer questions that were too complicated or too close to him.
A few nights ago, she had asked him about his family life. He had been very evasive, and she tried not to pay too much attention to it. It annoyed her that she had to answer his every question, but he would barely answer hers.
On a cold November evening, Maya had made her way to the café for a warm cup of coffee, claiming that she needed the extra boost to finish her art. She was lost deep in her thoughts until she made a sudden move and knocked over her mug, which ended up staining the paper she was drawing on with her coffee. She groaned as Lucas ran to her rescue with a bunch of napkins in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other.
The everyday hero wiped the coffee off the table and tried to save her drawing, but she waved it off, a clearly disappointed look on her face. The boy made his way to the trashcan to throw away the paper while she finished cleaning her mess, but he stopped himself.
She had drawn the café; the details were all present, from the horrible wallpaper design to the single coffee mug that Lucas had forgotten to pick up. But what struck him about the picture was how she drew him. Only half of him was drawn on the left side of the sheet, and the coffee that May had spilt had erased some of the lines that were supposed to finish contouring his body.
During his observation, Maya had gotten up to join him in his activities of throwing away the coffee-stained napkins. She noticed that he was still holding the sheet with her drawing.
"Do you know how to throw stuff away or do I have to do it for you?" She asked, reaching for the paper. He lifted his arm up so she couldn't reach it anymore, which was completely unfair. She had once told him that she hated everyone who would do this to her, but she couldn't bring herself to completely hate him. An annoyed glare would have to do. She rolled her eyes and threw away the bundle of napkins before going back to the table and pouring herself another cup of coffee. She sat back down and watched him as he folded the drawing and put it in his back pocket before he made his way to the table and sat down across from her.
"Why didn't you throw it away?" She asked him, taking a sip from her coffee. He noticed that as always, she hadn't bothered to put in any sugar or cream. Lucas usually drank it with sugar and cream, finding that taking his coffee black would leave a bad taste in his mouth. He found it extremely bitter – just like May was.
"Why am I only half there?" He asked back. She nodded and put the mug down.
"Because I feel like I know half of you." She replied. Lucas blinked at her. She rolled her eyes for the second time that night. "I don't even know your name, and before you ask, no, knowing your name would not have affected the drawing." She put her elbows on the table and leaned forward a bit. "You should be honored that I put you in the drawing."
He leaned forward too, replicating her position. "I am honored. Thank you for selecting me as your muse." He said, smiling. She chuckled and leaned back on her chair, an amused twinkle in her eyes.
He had always liked hearing that small chuckle. She would rarely laugh, but when she did, his day always seemed a bit brighter. Whenever she chuckled, she would always smile. It was one of his favorite sights.
As she moved backwards, a familiar smell reached his nose. Lucas noticed that she always smelled like two things; cinnamon and/or cigarettes. There was always a faint smell of cigarettes coming from her, probably due to her hanging around someone else while they smoked or her having smoked a few hours before. He tried not to picture May as a smoker, but it felt very like her to smoke if she was stressed.
"But really, why did you keep it?" She asked. The drawing was mostly ruined all thanks to her coffee spill, but he still kept it. Maya would have understood him keeping it before the coffee stain.
"Do you really want to know?"
"I do."
"Because it's us," He started, taking Maya completely off guard. "I feel like it represents you and me perfectly. Even if you're not in the picture, it doesn't matter." He took out the drawing and unfolded it. "See, there's the café. Then, there's me. I'm only half there, and you're not there at all."
"That's because the drawing was drawn from my perspective." She said matter-of-factly. He held up a finger, stopping her before she could continue her argument.
"I think you didn't draw yourself on the picture because you do not know who you are. And before you cut me off like you always do, I don't care about the coffee stain. We're that coffee stain. We're that mess." He said. She looked down at the drawing before looking up at him, a small smirk on her lips.
"You think you know me so well?" She asked, a small hint of challenge in her tone. He nodded at her.
"I think I do." He replied back.
She didn't bother answering. She took another sip of her coffee, and when he knew he wouldn't get another word from her, he folded the drawing once again and put it back in his pocket before standing up and making his way back to the counter.
The whole night, Maya stayed at her table, drawing something else and finishing the pot of coffee. Lucas finished cleaning up the café and at around one A.M, she got up and put on her leather jacket. She made his way to him and handed him the drawing she had been working on. He took it from her, clearly confused.
This time, the café looked like a crime scene. Tables were flipped over, there was a hole in the wall, smashed mugs and plates all over the floor and two people standing in the middle of the mess. He could only see their backs, but he quickly recognized himself and May. He noticed that the two were holding hands in the drawing, but he didn't comment on it.
"Why?" He asked, looking up from the paper. She smiled at him, the twinkle he loved so much reaching her eyes for the second time tonight.
"The mess. It's the coffee stain from the other drawing."
"You are one complicated person, May." He said, chuckling a bit.
"Maya."
"What?"
"My name is Maya." She said, zipping up her jacket.
"Lucas." He replied. She smiled at him and made her way to the door.
"It's nice to meet you, Lucas." She said before walking out. He watched her leave before folding the second drawing, which ended up meeting its friend in his pocket. He cleaned up Maya's table and closed up the café.
The following night, she came back.
A/N: Don't forget to leave a review, they always make me want to write more!
-xx