It was 6 in the morning when the cafeteria opened its doors to receive its customers. Generally, customers start arriving a little later, allowing time for a final check on the tables and in the kitchen. It sucks at work and I do not mind hiding my dissatisfaction with having to wake up 4 am to work part time here. I also hate cook and coffee owner, who insists on treating me like a helpless little girl.
But something strange happened that day. When I least expect it, the door opens, and a wacky Asian all in black, messy, wet hair, big, blue-rimmed glasses come in, his face red. From his condition, he seemed to have just finished a morning jog.
"Err ... Excuse me. Are you open? "He asks me, noticing the empty spot.
"Yes. Yes. Welcome, "I say, sulking. "What can I do for you?"
"Water," I frown, and he tilts his face toward me. "And the menu."
"Tsk." I just say, and I walk away, bringing a glass of iced water and the menu to the nerd who is sitting on the counter, swinging a cell phone.
"Here," I say, watching him lift his face and look at me, smiling.
"Thank you very much," he says, picking up the glass and already drinking some.
He picks up the menu and checks it out.
"I want a carrot and mayonnaise sandwich. And a house blend, please. "He asks, does not seem to care about my moodiness.
Soon I serve him, and my attention to him is broken with the arrival of new clients. He watches the shop moves as he eats, apparently enjoying the sandwich. When I finish to serve everyone, he waves to me.
"Err ... can I have my packaged order for the trip?" He asks, making me frown. "Here's the money."
"Of course. Thank you very much. "I get the money and give it back to him, along with a bag of coffee with his request. "Here it is."
And with another thanks, he leaves the cafe.
...
The next day, same time, he returns. He asks for a new sandwich and coffee, and leaves carrying a bag with the same order.
...
And the routine continues for a few days, with him always making different orders and coming out with the same in hand. That's up to the day when I, with my moodiness on high. He is in his usual seat, waiting for the order when the owner of the cafe appears behind the counter and hands the order to him and apologizing for my behavior. The loser laughs and says that everything is fine and it makes me more angry.
"Hey loser. Stay in yours and leave me alone. "I scream, scaring him, just as the front door opens.
I see a tall, silver-haired boy whose fringe covers his left eye and blue eyes. Hm, definitely my type. He looks around and opens a wide heart-shaped smile at the sight of the loser.
"Yuuri!" He shouts, hugging him.
"Victor Nikiforov? And ... Yuuri Katsuki? "The store owner asks, surprised.
I'm out of reaction, completely confused.
"Yes?" The loser says, not caring about the hug but looking at me.
"Amazing! Two vivid legends of figure skating in my cafe ?! Can I take a picture with you?"
"Of course!" They both said, smiling.
"I asked my Yuuri to find a place to have coffee and when he started bringing sandwiches from here, I loved it. They're delicious! "The silver haired one says, moving away from the Asian.
And then I realize that he takes off his glasses and straightens Asian hair. This, noticing my gaze, raises his right hand and waves, giving a chuckle to me when I finally realize a golden wedding ring and that the other also has one on the finger ... Are they a couple? And that face ... Shit. He is also handsome ...
I called him a loser, but I seem to be who really is. Moral of the story, never judge a book by its cover. And don't try to carry more than you can.