"Venti iced red eye," Eponine called out, passing the cup to a disheveled-looking man, who barely gave her a cough on his way out, much less a thank you. Biting back her tongue to prevent a sarcastic 'you're welcome" from popping out, she simply took the next cup, marked for an iced green tea.

Grantaire looked no better than she felt as he took orders from people bundled up in their coats against the harsh December air. His monotone voice was almost comical, and the way he glared at the door every time it opened made Eponine laugh out loud. She was glad she wasn't a customer, because that expression could be enough to send someone right back out into the cold.

Once the rush had subsided and no one else was coming in the door, Eponine took the liberty of leaning against the pastry case and sighing, looking to Grantaire. He gave her an eye roll and slumped onto the counter. "If one more person asks for no foam…"

"I know," she groaned.

"Like, it's a goddamn latte, you pretentious asshole. I swear-"

At that point, Combeferre came out of the break room, writing something on a clipboard. Eponine and Grantaire immediately un-slumped, shifting their faces from "the customers aren't around" to "the manager walked in".

Combeferre looked around the store and adjusted his glasses that Grantaire had once described as 'somewhat hipster but mostly ostentatious'. "Slow moment?"

"One of the few," Eponine offered, throwing a sidelong glance at her co-worker, who returned it, eyes widening.

Combeferre walked by them, checking how many pastries remained in the case. "Grantaire, can you grab a few more croissants out of the back?" he called out, marking something.

Throwing his hands up in the air, Grantaire gave Eponine an expression of complete disgust, all unbeknownst to Combeferre. "Sure thing, boss," he said, dragging himself into the back room.

Continuing to check the premises, Combeferre gave a quick once-over of Eponine to check her store-regulated attire. "And how are you, Miss Thenardier?"

"I'm good, how are you?" she replied, knowing very well that he wasn't listening and didn't give two shits about how her day was going.

"Hm? Oh, good." He retreated back into his office without another word.

Knowing that he could reappear at any minute, Eponine grabbed a hand towel and started to clean the counters and the face of the pastry case. She couldn't risk looking unoccupied, not with Combeferre poking his head out all the time and asking pointless questions, like had she made a latte yet today? Or do customers prefer their sandwiches heated or unheated? Or how was she doing today?

The answers were always yes, it's equal, and good.

Grantaire stormed back out with a single croissant in his hand. "There's one fucking croissant left. Hope they enjoy it," he mused, putting it in the case and closing the door. He turned around and pulled a stool out from underneath the counter. "So, doing anything fun after Enjolras comes to take over your shift?"

She shrugged, looking at her warped reflection in the glass. "Just going home."

Hearing his groan, Eponine knew what speech was coming. Immediately, she went over to clean the latte machine, but he followed anyways. "If you would just let me set you up…"

"Then I could find myself both annoyed on a date and annoyed by how terribly you know my taste?" she deadpanned.

"Please, plenty of hot girls come through here, Ep, and anyone would love the old 'put your number on their cup' trope." He moved to put a hand on her shoulder, but she ducked away from it. "And who's to say I don't know what you like? I see which girls you stare at and which girls you don't."

"You know I have to look at people to take their orders, right?"

"Yes, but that's beyond the realm of my point."

Eponine leaned over to get the dustpan out from its spot in the corner. "Well, I don't care about your point. I'm perfectly happy single, thank you." Most of the time.

The bell chimed on the door. "Can you get that one? I'm just going to finish sweeping this up before Combeferre has my head."

Suddenly he was down beside her, taking the dustpan roughly. "Actually, I think you should get that one."

"Dude, what the hell-"

He looked at her with urgency and a small smirk. "Trust me, you should get that one."

She raised her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine."

Standing up and brushing herself off, she moved to the counter. "Hi, what can I get for you today?"

"Hi, um, grande vanilla latte, please."

Eponine wouldn't have even looked up had the girl's voice not sounded like sugar and honey, but she was glad she did because…wow. A girl with blonde hair, green eyes, dressed in charcoal and pale blue met her eyes and made her feel a little self-conscious of her black polo.

Stop, this is exactly what Grantaire wanted to happen. Snapping herself out of it and taking a cup, she steadied herself and looked up again. "And could I get a name for that?"

"Cosette."

"Cosette," she repeated to herself subconsciously. When she realized it, however, she quickly wrote the name, bowing her head to hide her blush. "Anything else?"

"No, thanks."

"That'll be $3.15," she finished, taking the five dollar bill handed to her and tying to remember how to count change without looking like an idiot in front of someone. Thankfully, she managed, and passed Cosette a few coins, careful to not touch her hand.

Still breathing a bit heavily, she turned to start the drink only to nearly trip over Grantaire, who was hiding behind the counter. "So?" he whispered eagerly.

"Oh my god, have you been listening?"

He nodded. "And I'm proud of myself, really. What was that about not knowing your type?"

"Shut up," she hissed, firing up the machine.

"Tell me to shut up all you want. But write your number on that cup," he insisted, peering over the pastry case at Cosette, who was absent-mindedly admiring the artwork on the walls.

"I will not. It's cheesy and she's probably straight or taken or both."

"Fine, I'll do it" Grantaire sighed, making a move for the cup, which Eponine expertly blocked.

Pouring the latte, Eponine glared fiercely at him. "I am not making a move on a customer who's not interested. Now get out of my way, please."

She fastened the lid on and brushed past him, going towards the delivery counter. "Cosette?" she called out, pretending like it was just another name that she had to rattle off every day before going to make a skinny macchiato or whatever.

But this girl had the audacity to come up to the counter, smile and say "Thank you," before she took the cup from Eponine, brushing against her hand. Then she was out the door, where it had begun to snow lightly, leaving a draft of winter wind and a speechless barista in her wake.

"You are so fucking whipped," Grantaire whispered from beside her.

She elbowed him sharply in the stomach. "And you are so fucking annoying."

A/N: More to come!