Disclaimer: I don't own anything, the coffee shop is fictional and doesn't exist, though it is based off of Bramley's Coffee house
I know, don't hate me. I shouldn't be doing this with Love This Town not being updated since December, and with City of Infernal Games… but I've hit a wall. On the precise lines (they've been haunting me for months) *SPOILERS* "Jessamine, don't. You hear me? YOU CAN'T." and "Johnathon thrust his blade forwards". THOSE LINES. So, my apologies, but I promise I am working on those fanfictions.
It's just, I felt like the Jessa part of this fandom was neglected recently. I vow to change it, even if this multi-chapter fic won't be all that long.
Spend ten years
Not for the first time, a large groan emitted from Tessa's throat as she tilted her head back to her neck, staring hopelessly at the ceiling. She gave up. That was it. This was the final straw.
All she was trying to do was write a book. It wasn't a particularly difficult feat. Jk Rowling had written several. E L James had started off on Fanfiction, and look where that'd got her.
Although the Fault in our Stars had taken John Green years to write…
Tessa tilted her head forwards again, an eyebrow cocked as she stared at her blank computer screen. She had it then. A plan. Spend ten years writing an erotic fanfiction about wizards in a boarding school. That was it! She could see it now. She'd call it "the 50 Faults in Harry's chamber".
…Perhaps not.
Still, it was better than any other idea she'd had so far, and only the Lord knew how long she'd been here.
Which evidently meant that Tessa was Jesus Christ, because a quick glance at the clock on the wall told her that she'd been at the coffee shop for three hours.
She couldn't help it, though. Branwell's coffee shop was practically her second home. It was a traditional, homely sort of café, with comfy leather settees, French Menu's, classical music and bookshelves. And not to mention those really delicious small biscuity-like cakes that were oh-so-cutely decorated with iced flowers.
She should probably order one actually. Before they kicked her out for not buying anything since about two hours ago.
Spotting a passing waiter, she quickly grabbed the menu from the stand on her table and began to peruse it, before looking back up again so he'd know she was ready to order.
Hnnngggh.
Tessa was 90% sure that she had just died. Because she'd just seen an angel.
His beautifully coloured eyes shifted over towards her and made contact with hers and gave her a crooked smile, resulting Tessa to attempt to school her features into one a little calmer.
"Excuse me," She began politely, "do you have any really good ideas for a novel that could be bestselling and earn me millions of pounds so I could afford to pay someone to write a better book for me?" She rambled immediately, forgetting the line she had spent so long perfecting in her head (Hi, could I order a Cappuccino please?). It wasn't even a particularly difficult sentence. Whilst continuing to mentally scold herself, she noticed the slightly confused look upon his ethereal features. "…Oh, no… English?" She asked, before realising how that sounded. "Not— not because you're Asian or anything, it's just, well, I know some Waiters speak French here, and I thought that because I was talking so quickly— oh and I'm doing it again, but I just, I didn't mean—"
The waiter burst into laughter, his slanted eyes glinting. "If I had thought of a good idea, I wouldn't need to be a waiter in a coffee shop, now would I?" He responded, his voice the English accent of all English accents. The type that made anyone melt, even if you had the same accent yourself. It was Queen's English, an accent worthy of Benedict Cumberbatch's.
Tessa felt her cheeks colouring slightly. She really hadn't meant to say that.
"As for your presumption of my spoken language, I must say you were partially correct." He allowed her. "I know Mandarin— which is Chinese, essentially— and I'm fluent in French." He gave her that crooked smile again.
"I know what Mandarin is." Was Tessa's only response, her grey eyes round as she gave him her best puppy-eyes look.
"My apologies, fair few people do." He replied, before snapping into some sort of professionalism. "Anyway, what can I get for you? Or was the purpose of my summoning simply for you to ask me if I knew the English language?"
I mean, technically, it was to ask you for a plot, but whatever, the perfectionist inside her muttered. "Could I order a Cappuccino, please?" She asked, feeling some sense of triumph that she had delivered her rehearsed line correctly.
"Certainly." He told her, writing it down on the little notepad he carried. "Anything else?"
Declining politely, she watched him leave, staring after him in fascination.
"Cappuccino for the aspiring novelist?" Came a very different voice. One whose accent was definitely more northern. The voice that pronounced the coffee in the Italian manner, the way it was meant to be pronounced.
"That's me." Tessa acknowledged, glancing up to meet Sapphire blue eyes and jet black hair. Well fuck me, she thought, glancing right up at Mr Darcy himself.
"Ew, why?" He said, wrinkling his broad nose as he placed down her cup and the paper the order had been written on.
Tessa's jaw dropped slightly. She'd forgotten just how much this waiter managed to infuriate her. "Because books are amazing and perfect and I want to write one?"
He gave a loud, boisterous laugh that disturbed the peaceful atmosphere of the shop. He didn't seem to care, though. "I meant the drink," he informed her. "I don't know how people can possibly like it, I can't stand the stuff. Still," he said, pausing. "Isn't much coffee that I do like."
Well that made Tessa think. "…You work in a coffee shop." She pointed out.
"Wow Tess, have you ever considered becoming a journalist instead of a writer?"
She pursed her lips at the nickname he was oh-so-fond-of giving her. She'd first had the misfortune of meeting him three months ago, when he first started working here. And since Tessa was a regular at least once a week… Well, they ran into each other a lot.
"Anyway, what's this story you're working on? Are there vampires? Werewolves?"
She snorted. "Please, Will, I have class. You don't need to write about that sort of stuff to get to the top."
He sighed. "The Mortal Instruments, Harry Potter, Twilight—" He told her, counting them off on his fingers as he went.
She interrupted him. "The Fault in our Stars, Fifty Shades of Gray—"
"Ah, so you're writing a sassy book filled with sex?" Will asked. "Not bad. Tell me when it's in Waterstones, I'll have to buy it."
"My Cappuccino's getting cold." She said flatly, hoping to dismiss him.
"Excellent, is that the title?" He questioned, turning on his heel and leaving, before she had chance to reply.
Damnit.
It was 4 o'clock in the evening, and with several different plot ideas that had tailed out of existence, Tessa was most definitely calling it a day.
Tiredly walking up to the till, a part of her groaned and another part sparked as she clocked the cashier's dark hair and ocean-like eyes.
"How was the Cappuccino?" Will asked her, raising a perfectly-groomed eyebrow.
The memory this boy had astounded her. "Frozen." She replied.
Something sparked in his endless orbs and his mouth opened widely. "Let it—"
"No." She cut him off quickly, before an epidemic occurred.
His forehead wrinkled slightly as he frowned. "Rude." He acknowledged, beginning to enter the details into the till.
Tessa snorted. "I'm rude? You know it's astounded me how you haven't been fired yet, with the way you treat people!"
Will gave that risqué smile of his, though he didn't glance up. "I think you know why I haven't been let go yet."
Tessa pursed her lips. It was true. With that suggestive smile and bad-boy attitude, who wouldn't come for a quick-stalk whilst ordering a coffee as a cover-up story? Will was literally the best marketing strategy the café had.
Personally though, when compared to the man she'd seen this morning… well, Tessa saw no attraction to Will. Speaking of the Silver man…
"Hey, Will…" She said slowly, handing over the cost of her drink to him.
He looked up from printing out a receipt, before opening the till to count out the change. "Sup?"
"Who was the new guy I saw earlier?" She asked, blushing slightly despite her best efforts not to.
Will tugged on his lip with his teeth slightly, deep in thought.
"You know. Silver hair, Tom Hiddlestone voice—"
"Who, Jem?"
"Is that his name?"
"…You ever seen any other Silver-haired twenty year-olds?" He responded with. "Yeah, I know what you're asking. It's dye. It's hilarious when his roots start to show."
"No, erm, I was just wondering… wait, you know him?"
"Yeah, we're brothers." Will told her dismissively.
"Brothers?" She asked with sparked interest.
Will seemed to know what she was on about, and looked up, grinning.
Oh no…
"You want his number?"
Now that was a question. Did she want his number? She'd only had a conversation with him, after all. A crush couldn't possibly lead to some sort of relationship when harboured so recently, right? "Um…" Came a stammered response.
Will cocked an eyebrow. "Should I give him your number?"
And that was a better question. That left the silver-haired waiter (Jem, she chastised herself) with the opportunity to initiate the text. If he had no interest, then he needn't think about it.
Will's eyes rolled skyward. "Give me the number, Tessa."
She met his gaze. "You'd do that?" She asked hopefully. "And you'd give it him? You wouldn't make me sound desperate or…" She tailed off, writing her mobile number down on a stray napkin using the pen Will had earnestly handed her. "Thanks." She told him, offering him the serviette.
He gave a —melodramatic— mock sigh. "After all of these years I've been trying to get your number, and even now, I only have it so I can pass it to someone else?"
"You have a girlfriend." Tessa said pointedly.
He wrinkled his nose slightly. It was only a minor movement, gone in a flash, but it still caught her eye. It didn't matter anyway. It was no small secret that William Herondale had next to no attachment to his 'bae'. She was possessive of him and loathed reading. Her voice had a nasal, brittle quality. Her only interest in poetry was that Charles Dickens had the word 'Dick' in his surname.
"Why date her?" She asked in exasperation.
Once again, an eyebrow was raised. "How about you answer that question for me?"
She could answer it in a heartbeat. Not one for a steady relationship, he cared more about… other things. And despite hating the girl, Tessa had to admit that Tatiana Lightwood was… well. She had an amazing figure, which meant she ticked all of Will's boxes. Well, his box, since there was only one factor.
He laughed once he noticed how her expression had shifted considerably. "I'll pass the number onto Jem. See you later, Tessa."
"S'laters, Will." She replied, turning to leave the shop quickly, a smile on her features and a sense of accomplishment running through her body, as she flung open the shop door and stepped outside.
She then chilled, and not because of the weather.
What if he didn't call her?
HOLA! …Or Adios, as the case may be…?
But yeah. This is gonna be a multi-chapter story, and I'll say about 7 chapters (only cause that's my lucky number) and, before asking, yes, it WILL be Jessa. There'll be the flirtatious banter between Will and Tessa, as I can never refuse, but yes, it's Jessa.
