He thought he knew her type the moment the antique bell chimed above the coffee shop door. It was something of a gift, honed through the many hours labouring at the coffee machine; Fíli could predict exactly what coffee a person would order before they had decided for themselves.
It was rather straight forward. The Black Coffees wore sensible shoes, had simple haircuts and a newspaper stowed somewhere on their person; The Chai Lattes travelled in packs, gravitated towards the couches at the back, and always spoke louder than anyone else; Cappuccinos wore stylish yet obviously painful shoes, and always had their phone in their hand as they ordered; The Artisan Coffees wore plaid with strictly at least one earphone at all times; and frankly, Fili didn't care about the Instant Coffee drinkers.
Then, She strode through the door. Flushed cheeks, dirty blond hair twisted in a messy bun atop her head, her thin frame rugged up in an oversized emerald knit cardigan with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, and a heavy canvas book bag slung accords her shoulder. One thought went through Fili's mind; Latte, two sugars.
Her eyes scanned the menu artfully scrawled on the blackboard above his head, and Fíli stepped towards the till, his finger already hovering about the Latte button because he was so damn sure he was right.
She seemed to come to a decision, and he smirked to himself as she stepped forwards.
"One Double Espresso please, no sugar." She held out her hand, coins already counted.
Fíli just started at her. No, he must have heard her wrong.
"Double Espresso, no sugar." She repeated more clearly.
But it made no sense! Where has he gone wrong? His theory was never ever wrong!
She tilted her head slightly, brow furrowed. "Is something wrong?"
Fili blinked and shook his head slightly. "Yeah-I mean, no! One double espresso, no sugars."
Still in a daze he took her money and punched in the espresso order. Then she walked to a table by the window, pulled out a notebook, and started to write.
And that was the first day Espresso girl came into Bilbo's little coffee shop.
Three months down the track and Espresso girl had been coming in every day since, always with the same order. Fíli tried to work her out; watching her out of the corner of his eye as he worked.
"Is that her?" Kíli asked, leaning over the counter to take a better look.
Fíli nodded, not taking his eyes off the grinder as it whirred.
"Hmm I would have guessed latte too. I guess you might have found your exception to the rule" Kíli frowned then looked at his brother. "You've asked her about it, right?"
Fíli set the filter basket and looked up. "I take her order every day." He shrugged.
Kíli shook his head. "For three months -three months- all any of us have had to listen to was how you'd met a girl who disproved The Coffee Theory," He wiggled his fingers up and down to imitate quotation marks. "And now it turns out you haven't even spoken to her!" He eyed his brother shrewdly. "You like her, don't you?"
"Keep your voice down!" Fíli hissed. He cast a glance over at Espresso Girl, but thankfully she was still absorbed in her journal. He turned back to Kíli. "I'm just curious, that's all."
"I bet I know exactly what-"
He turned the dial for the steam wand so that whatever Kíli was about to say -and Fili thought he had a pretty fair idea what it was- was drowned out.
Glaring, Kíli turned to serve a customer. "Just talk to her." He called over his shoulder when Fíli was finished. "Prove the theory right or wrong once and for all."
Fíli bit his lip and looked over the machine to where she sat, a woollen beanie pulled low over her ears, hair spilling out in waves. How hard could it be?
At three o'clock the next afternoon he watched the door and waited, wiping clammy hands on his apron on more than one occasion. But Espresso Girl never came. So Fíli resigned himself to the fact that he had missed his chance with his theory and the girl.
About a week later the rain was hammering down in great sweeping curtains, the darkened evening sky made the yellow glow of the streetlights shimmer on the pavement outside, and Fíli was alone at the shop with Credence Clearwater Revival playing on softly the stereo. Bilbo had gone home early with the flu, and Kíli had a date, so it was left to him close up. It wasn't a big deal, he had done it plenty of times before and hardly anyone came into the coffee shop past six, but Bilbo liked to keep a friendly light on, just in case.
He had mopped the floors, wiped down the windows, checked and rotated the stock, and prepped his station for a new day, all the while humming and swaying along to the twang of the guitar and the familiar nostalgia of the singer's earthy voice.
Suddenly there was a loud bang, the merry chime of the bell above the door drowned out in the howl of the wind as someone stumbled inside, head bowed against the rain.
Fíli glanced up and then at the clock. "I'm closing in f-"
The figure threw back the hood of their jacket and there stood Espresso girl.
"Can I pl-please get a c-coffee?" She asked through chattering teeth.
Fíli thanked his lucky stars that he had his wits about him at that moment as he leapt into action. "Yeah, of course." He didn't even ask her what she wanted.
"What are you doing out in this weather?" He asked as he set the press.
"Got c-caught on my way home from the late shift at work." She looked about, rubbing her arms in an effort to get her blood circulating again.
She looked like she had drowned. Her hair hung limply down her back, and the cardigan she wore looked more like a waterlogged blanket than wearable clothes.
He brought the espresso over to her usual table by the window and set it in front of her.
"Sorry about this, I know it's late and you're just about to close." She took the warm drink into her hands with a shudder of relief. "I'll just drink this and then I'll be out of your way."
Fíli frowned at her. "You can't seriously expect me to turn you out into that!" He nodded his head towards the torrential downpour outside. "Feel free to stay a while until it dies down."
She smiled. "You're sure I won't be keeping you from something… or someone?"
The twisted coil of nerves in his stomach tightened as he shook his head. "I was planning on waiting it out anyway."
Espresso girl looked down at her wrist, lifting up the arm to peer at her watch and then tapping it. "Damn thing is waterlogged. Do you have the time?"
Fíli pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. "Half past seven."
She cursed again, muttering to herself. "I was supposed to be home ten minutes ago." She looked hopefully at his phone. "Could I be a pain and use your phone to make a quick call?"
He held it out to her. "I'll just be in the back of the shop."
He returned a minute later with a worn and patched grey sweater in his hands. "Sorry, this is all I've got. It's a bit old, but it's dry."
"You're a lifesaver." She took it gratefully as she handed him back his phone.
Fíli stood awkwardly for a moment and then sat himself on the stool across the table from her, deciding that it was the best thing to do. Kíli's words echoed in his head. 'Just talk to her.'
"I'm Sigrid by the way," she said, peeling off her waterlogged cardigan to tug his old sweater over her tee-shirt. It was far too big for her, but he couldn't help thinking that the way it swamped her body was quite honestly one of the hottest things he had ever seen.
"Fíli. It's a family name." he explained at the slight tilt of her head.
Sigrid smiled, lifting the coffee to her lips and taking a cautious sip. She closed her eyes as the liquid hit her bloodstream, sending its delicious warmth throughout her frozen body.
Fíli grinned. "I take it you like coffee?"
"Only with my oxygen." She replied, eyes still closed.
He chuckled.
The rain continued to batter the window as it come down sideways and Fíli had to grin to himself as the stereo switched tracks to 'Have You ever Seen The Rain'.
"Can I ask you a question." He said, throwing caution to the presently torrential wind.
Sigrid nodded, taking another swig of her coffee.
"Why an espresso?"
She frowned. "Why not an espresso?"
"Well, you see," he began, leaning forward. "I have this theory that you can predict what a person will order just from watching them. But you..."
"I don't fit your theory?" She asked, a smile curling her lips.
Fíli shook his head. "For one thing, Espresso drinkers are usually older."
Sigrid rested her chin on her hands thoughtfully. "As a kid I used to take a sip of my Da's coffee, so I guess I developed a taste for it early."
"Alright, but Espresso drinkers don't bother looking at the menu."
"I suppose I'm open to trying something new if it catches my eye." She shrugged.
"And Espresso drinkers take their coffee to go."
"I have one hour every day to myself between work, Med school, and going home. Don't get me wrong, I love my family and my degree. But I need to have just a little time to myself." She smirked. "I guess you can't tell everything about a person just from looking at them."
Fili folded his arms and sat back in his chair. "So you don't have any theories about people?"
Sigrid set her empty cup down. "Music. You can tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to."
He raised his eyebrows but waited for her to go on.
Sigrid pushed back the too-long sleeves of his jumper. "Alright. Firstly, nobody our age listens to Credence Clearwater revival unless their parents put them onto it. So I'd say that you are close to your family?"
He looked down at his hands on the table. "They were my dad's favourite band. Mum still plays then every morning."
Her hand fluttered on the table as if she had almost reached out but thought better of it, but she seemed to understand what remained unsaid. "You're a traditionalist; I'd say that this place is probably a family business. You have an innate intuitive understanding of other people, but there's probably a lot going on in your own head that you don't say out loud."
"I sound like I'm in need of a good time." He joked.
This time her smile was positively evil. "When I was outside I saw you mopping the floors. You were dancing. So you do know how to not take yourself too seriously."
"I was not dancing!" He protested indignantly, feeling his cheeks flush red.
"Yes, you were. And you're not too bad." She laughed. "But don't worry; I won't tell anyone."
They chatted away for a while; debating song lyrics and swapping music recommendations. Sigrid seemed to think Fleetwood Mac was the greatest band of all time, Fíli stood resolutely beside the Beatles.
But eventually the rain began to ease off, and Sigrid looked again at her watch with a sigh.
"I'd better get going. Thanks for the coffee and the jumper." She reached into her bag to dig for coins but Fíli held up his hand.
"Consider it paid for."
She frowned. "I can't do that." She pushed the coins towards him.
Fíli shook his head. "You said I'm a traditionalist, and tradition says that a gentleman always pays for the first date."
For a second he thought he had screwed it up and come on too strong. Idiot! He could practically hear his heart thundering in his chest as he held his breath, awaiting her response.
But after a moment Sigrid smiled and returned the coins to her bag. "Same time, same place tomorrow?"
His face split into a wide grin. "Perfect."
Reader questions: If Sigrid was to make Fíli a playlist what would be on it?
and
If Sigrid challenged Fíli to make her the coffee he thought suited her best, what would he make and why?
Leave your answers in the comments.
Thanks and much love,
Mont Girl of Lumatere
Xxx