A/N: A series of drabbles, one-shots, and would-be longer stories that never made it
Disclaimer: The characters are famous…therefore they are probably not mine.
Vanilla Cream:
Scribbling down five bold letters in long strides, Hinata flutters her weary eyes towards the dusty green counter, already brimming with customers and poorly stacked white mugs, as she sweetly smiles to the elderly man in front of her. She tucks a strand of midnight blue hair behind her ear, and cradles the plastic cup in the crook of her elbow as she quickly scrawls the shortcut abbreviations that had ingrained itself in her memories.
"Caramel hot chocolate espresso?" she echoes and passes the small gleaming plastic to another dreary looking employee, her eyes encouraging with a small apologetic smile.
"Thank you, miss". The man crinkles his eyes in a large toothy smile, and ambles to the line on the other side of the shop. As he leaves, another figure appears behind the line to fill the void in front of the counter.
She turns her pearl tinted eyes up, and sees a shock of black hair, angular features, and lips pursed in a firm taut line.
His eyes are dark, not black though, and she tilts her head to the left and wonders absently; he reminds her of something.
He coughs, and she blushes, tearing her eyes from his and sternly stares at the notebook she sits in front of her.
She smiles as sweetly as she could, brushing the weariness that clung to the edges of her eyelashes with the back of her hand, "What can I help you with sir?"
He does not wait for her to finish before telling her of his request, "Coffee. Black". His voice is terse, cold, but rich. And she swallows it as if she was gulping for air. He puts down three bills and leaves without glancing back.
She looks and lingers but she doesn't call him. There was no need to call him back, instead she smiles and turns to the next customer, her graceful, adept fingers had already written his request.
He steps out of the café, pausing only slightly to readjust the scarf at his neck, and walks away. His hands grip the cup firmly, steady, and he trails a finger across the rim. The air is cool, crisp, clean. It cuts across the gray slumbering clouds, and whispers excitedly through the buzz of city. He takes a sip and smiles.
It's sweet.
Just the way he knew she would make it.
A series of random, and some not so random drabbles and one-shots. Some are long, and some are short, some are sweet, and some are bitter. Just whatever I feel in the moment.
Thanks for Reading!