Skim Latte
A/N: has there been a coffee shop AU?
It is a Monday, eight oh five in the morning and like every other day, there is already a long line of customers waiting for their daily caffeine. The long sting of orders keeps him busy, trying to serve the impatient customers as fast as possible.
They all look the same to him with their hooded, sleep deprived eyes and their lips pressed into a thin line, seemingly offended by every little thing that cross their way.
His co-workers are nice enough, he guesses. Thistlewit is kind but ditzy, Knotgrass is grumpy but gets the job done, Flittle is rash but sort of sweet and Robin is mischievous but efficient.
He is glad that he has Robin with him in the mornings. With his cheerfulness and antics, Robin makes the tiring shift a little more bearable.
"Grande skim latte," a woman orders.
"Name?"
"Mallory."
He gives her a small polite smile and goes on to make her order as Robin swaps positions with him, manning the cashier instead.
"Mallory," he calls out her name.
He hears her heels click and he looks up, right into the piercing glance of the woman.
Her black hair is pulled back neatly into a tight bun, leaving a few loose tendrils framing her face. Her cheekbones are high and angular, giving her a fierce, deadly look. Her eyes are emerald green with blur rim, speckled with gold. Her gaze is sharp, penetrating and thoroughly unforgiving.
She raises an eyebrow.
Right. "Sorry," he mumbles, passing her the coffee. "Grande skim latte."
She gives him a curt nod and turns to leave.
"Have a nice day!" he calls out after her.
She stops for a split moment, turns and flashes him a smile that is barely visible, lasting only for a second.
His gaze follows her until he looses sight of her silhouette.
….
She comes in every weekday morning exactly at eight oh five. He hears the clicking of her stilettoes before he sees her. Her orders are always exactly the same, a Grande skim latte.
She always looks pristine, with a carefully pressed blouse and pants. She is the epitome of professionalism, or at least, what he views as the perfect lawyer, or a manager, or maybe even a detective.
He tries to guess her profession but the vicinity the coffee shop is in isn't helping him.
There is a lawyer firm nearby, various companies, a precinct, and a college…
He is weirdly curious about her, Mallory. They never got further than a simple "have a nice day" from him and an almost non-existent smile from her.
Eight oh five. He hears the familiar clicking of stilettoes, her clicks. He spots her at the back of the line, carrying a briefcase. There is a frown on her face this time, wrinkles gathering at the middle of her furrowed eyebrows.
He silently urges Robin to finish the other orders, just so that he can speed up the line and give Mallory her order.
"Grande skinny latte?" he smiles when it is finally her turn to order.
Surprise flickers over her face before settling back to the usual neutral expression. "Yes."
He ushers Robin to the cashier as he speeds off to prepare her order. It is silly of him to get so attached to a customer he barely knows. It has only been two weeks.
He pulls out a blueberry scone and passes her the coffee and the pastry.
"I didn't order that," she states, staring at the bag.
"I know," he smiles broadly. "My treat."
She looks down at the bag once more, studying it.
"Thank you," she glances up, her lips curling up into a smile.
She is beautiful.
"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," he repeats what his mum used to tell him every day, back before she died from cancer.
Mallory's eyes narrowed onto his before flicking into an eye roll. "Yes mother," she says drily, picking up her bag and leaving without a second word.
He stands there, grinning like a fool until Robin smacks him on the head.
…
It becomes their little routine.
She comes in at eight oh five, he prepares her coffee and adds in a pastry-sometimes blueberry scones, sometimes croissant, sometimes bear claws.
She will take the added pastries in quiet gratitude. He knows that unless he adds in those pastries, she will not eat anything until, well, until she remembers to. At least that's what he tells himself. He likes to see him as her breakfast angel, or something along that line.
He wishes they could be friends. He wishes he can know her better. She is an intriguing woman with a presence that fills the room.
Robin teases him about her, making gooey eyes at them whenever she appears in the coffee shop.
"Ask for her number!" Robin stage whispers and gestures towards the waiting dark haired woman. So very inconspicuous
His cheeks heats up and glares angrily at his co-worker who is currently on a sugar rush.
He steals a glance at her and swears there is a slight pink hue to her fair skin. Is she blushing?
He spots the cinnamon shaker and shakes some into the coffee. A little more flavour would be nice for her. He hands her the bag. She takes a sip and her eyes widens.
"Cinnamon?" she frowns. She likes to frown, he observes.
"Doesn't it adds flavour to the latte?" he grins, his eyes sparkling.
"I… suppose?" she shrugs, taking another sip of the coffee.
"Bye, Diaval," she gives him a rare smile and sashays out of the store.
He stands there, stunned, staring at the same spot even when she is gone.
Robin snickers behind him and plays a love song over the speakers.
….
"Waiting for your crush?" Robin smirks, prancing around the café.
"It's a Saturday. She won't be coming," Diaval gives him the deadpanned stare that Mallory excelled in.
The day is slow, with a handful of customers in the café. Diaval won't admit it, especially to Robin but he misses Mallory and the brief moments he has with her in the mornings.
He sighs, cupping his face and props his elbows on the counter. He can't get the pair of green eyes off his mind, the wine red lipstick, the curl of her lips, the drawl of her voice…
"Excuse me." He hears her voice. He must be hallucinating. It is a Saturday, not a Monday, not a Tuesday…
"How may I help you?" he looks up groggily. He absorbs the woman before her, his eyes widening in surprise.
Her eyebrows shoot up in amusement.
"M-Mallory!" his voice came out a little too excited.
"Hello Diaval," her voice was soft, almost gentle.
"The usual?"
"Yes. And erm… What would you like?" she glances down.
A head of golden hair pops up into view.
"May I have caramel hot chocolate? Extra whipped cream?" A pair of sky blue eyes looks shyly at him.
"Of course."
"No."
They say at the exact same moment. Their eyes meet and he feels a surge of electricity surging through him, as cliché that sounds.
"Please Aunty Mallie," the little girl pleads, looking at the stern woman with wide innocent eyes.
"Your teeth will drop out if you take so much sugar, little beastie," Mallory sighs.
"No they won't!" she pouts.
"Yes they will."
"Please Aunty Mallie! Please!" she begs and begs. Diaval melts at her cuteness.
Mallory's eyes soften and he can see her slowly melt. "Fine," she relents.
"One Grande skim latte and one caramel hot chocolate with extra whipped cream coming up!" Diaval announces with vigour and the sweet young girl claps with glee.
He watches them as he makes their orders. Mallory seems almost awkward, not knowing how to behave or interact with the energetic cheerful child. He sees the gentle fondness she possesses for the girl, softening her sharp features.
Robin snickers, trying to make himself scarce for his friend and his precious crush.
Diaval serves the two waiting special customers with their drinks, not forgetting to add a slice of strawberry shortcake and a slice of chocolate cake.
"If she has a sugar rush, it is your fault," Mallory glares at the cakes.
"I will gladly take responsibility," he grins, giving the giggling girl a high five.
"What's your name pretty one?" he asks her.
"Aurora!" she replies with pride, puffing out her chest.
"That's a pretty name."
"Thank you Mister. You have pretty hair," she smiles shyly.
He gives her a bow and she giggles happily. She really likes to giggle, a sweet cheerful sound.
He prepares to return to the cashier when Robin pops up in front of him and shoves him onto the chair next to Mallory, much to her amusement, judging by her muted snickers.
"Sit," Robin commands, "you will have your break now. Do not return to the cashier until an hour has passed."
Before Diaval can protest, Robin stalks off with a slight jump in his steps.
Stupid Robin.
He smiles awkwardly at Mallory, whose eyes are glistening with amusement. She has a devilish grin on her face, which scares him and makes his heart flutter.
"What are you doing here?" he asks without thinking. "I mean… You usually come during the weekdays, never the weekend. I uh…"
She laughs, enjoying him acting all flustered. "I have to babysit this little beastie. I can't survive any longer without coffee."
"She can't be that bad," Diaval looks at the innocent looking child.
She gives him her famous deadpanned look. "You have no idea."
He spends the next hour chatting with Mallory and her niece, realising that there is so much more to the woman.
She is warming up to him, he can tell. She smiles a lot more and her words are a lot gentler. But he can still see the guarded pain in her eyes, one that he is familiar with.
She is a professor at the college nearby. A literature professor. That is so cool.
Aurora is four, a little small for her age. She lives with her three paternal aunts but sometimes Mallory has to babysit her.
Soon, it is time for them to leave, for Aurora was getting restless and needed to run about to burn some of the excess energy off.
He really shouldn't have given her the extra piece of cake. He now understands Mallory's reaction.
He waves enthusiastically as they leave, missing them just a few minutes later.
…..
They have a new routine now. She comes in at eight oh five every weekday and nine ten every Saturday. She isn't always with Aurora every Saturdays. Sometimes, her companion will be a book, or a stack of essays she has to grade.
She drinks a latte with cinnamon and eats a pastry he picks out for her.
He learns that she likes chocolate and likes to eat the strawberry shortcake without strawberries. She doesn't like raspberries or oranges but have a slight fondness for lemon flavoured food. He likes learning new things about her.
He finds butterflies in his stomach every time she smiles at him. He finds himself anticipating her arrival, counting down to the moment she steps into the café. He finds himself missing her. He finds a warm sensation filling his body whenever he sees her.
He just can't get her out of his mind.
He looks at the bouquet lying on the table.
Does she like lilies? He wanted to buy her roses but it seems too romantic and clichéd. He doesn't want to scare her off. He wants to do this properly. He wants to court her, to bring her out to dates. He… he thinks that he really likes her.
When she arrives precisely on nine ten, he presents her the flowers with a blush on his face.
"What is this?" she sounds offended, even a little terrified.
"I… I want to ask you out," he stammers, his poor heart thundering with fear.
"No… No," she whispers, her eyes widened in fear. There is betrayal in her eyes and he doesn't understand why. "I… I can't," she takes a few steps backwards, her lower lips trembling just the slightest.
Without looking back, she ran, knocking the bouquet off his hands.
His heart broke, looking at the fallen bouquet. Maybe they were not meant to be.
….
She doesn't come the next day. Or two days later. Or three days later. Or a week later.
He misses her, misses the smirks she gives, the eye rolls, the deadpanned looks… It is his fault. He had pushed her, overstepped her boundaries and now she is gone from his life forever.
He is hurt but it is his fault. She doesn't owe him anything.
The days stretch into weeks and into a month.
He stops expecting her, learning to curb the hope that rises in his throat every eight oh five.
Robin treats him with care, trying to cheer him up. He appreciates Robin's actions but they don't help.
It is a windy Saturday afternoon when he meets her again.
He is preparing to get off his shift when he hears the familiar click of stilettoes resonating in the café.
He sees a hand of painted red nails and looks up.
She is in a black dress with her hair let down, straight and dark.
"Grande skim latte with cinnamon please," she smiles tentatively.
"I am Mallory Fae. Nice to meet you." She stretches out her hand and he takes it, smiles on their face for the first time in the month.
End