OMG!!! An update!! Trust me, I'm as shocked as you are…I've had the beginning for a while now, and I got around to finishing it last night cause I had to stay at school- wait, you guys don't care, do you? Oh well, I'll shut up and let you read. I hope you enjoy it and please leave a quick note telling me what you thought, and maybe where you think I should go.
Third person p.o.v.
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
SMACK!
A pale hand retreated back to the warmth that its deep blue comforter provided. Heaving a great sigh, the bundle of covers turned away from the intruding light that shone through the slightly parted curtains. But the effort to shut out the world was in vain as, only a few moments later the alarm clock went off again.
Throwing the plush fabric off of his body, the blond haired man stretched his legs and swung them over the side of the bed. He pushed a complicated series of buttons on the small plastic contraption and the atrocious sound it had previously been emitting stopped. Why he had bought a more efficient alarm clock was beyond him, for the moment at least. As he curved his back in a sequence of awkward and most certainly uncomfortable positions, he wondered why the logo "You'll just have to get up" had appealed to him when he had bought the godforsaken thing.
He raked a hand through his hair, untangling the smooth strands. It was all he ever did to keep it in order, yet day in and day out people asked where he had it done and what products he used. He figured that if he could have just one penny for every time he had said the word 'shampoo', he'd be rich.
But such thoughts are generally better left for a time when one has ingested a proper amount of coffee and is therefore in an appropriate state to evaluate the situation. The idea of a piping hot mug of coffee was enough to get the grey-eyed man to the little bathroom attached to his bedroom, and he proceeded to prepare for his official greeting of the day.
Less than half an hour later, a head of damp blond hair was the last thing to be seen exiting the warmth of its owner's home. When the sound of keys clicking a lock shut had failed to be heard mere seconds later, a black clad arm slithered its way back into the apartment and to the table that had been placed next to the entrance. It picked up a set of keys and joined the rest of itself on the other side of the wooden plank.
The wind that whipped his hair around was a little warmer than the previous days'. Or maybe that was just a fool's perception hoping for an early end to the rugged winter the city had been subject to. There was less traffic marring the criss-crossing streets, leaving the seemingly warm breeze more freedom to tickle the passers-by's cheeks and allowing the blonde easier access to his destination. The bell that hung above the door signalled his entrance, but the deep resonance was rather foreboding in comparison to the light and cheerful ring it usually held. The din inside the restaurant had a different ring than previously, more like a swarm of hungry bees than the soft cooing that he remembered.
Shaking his head slightly and smoothing out the lines that had formed on his sleepy face, he walked towards the cash.
Cold brown eyes stared him down from the opposite side of the counter, quite a change from the warm, inviting blue ones he had grown accustomed to. A quick glance to the new cashier's nametag told him only that he and 'Todd' would not be getting along as well as he and Charlene had.
He paused for a second too long, not used to having to vocalize his order, and a slight, impatient cough reminded him of that fact. "One large black coffee," he ordered, then added, "please." almost as an afterthought.
As he waited for his drink to be served, he drummed his cool fingers on the warn countertop and looked around. The usual crowd was there, but something was missing. He began turning his head to look at his eagerly awaited spot when the cashier returned carrying not a steaming mug of black coffee, but the five-dollar bill that had been handed to him before. He didn't have time to ask what was wrong before 'Todd' said brusquely, "We're out of coffee and the maker just broke. Can I get you anything else?"
Flabbergasted, the blonde let his eyes scan the menu, but nothing caught his eye. He began shaking his head 'no' when 'Todd' spoke again. "If you're willing to wait, it's possible that we'll be able to fix the coffee maker, but I'm not sure how long it'll take."
The young man shifted his weight from foot to foot considering his options. "Ummm…okay, I'll wait; I have a bit of time. Could you let me know when you fix it, if you do?"
As he watched the other nod his head, he understood what had changed the ambience of his favourite morning place. "What happened to the music? Did the music player break as well?" He asked dryly.
"Yes actually. Whoever was in charge of cleaning last night knocked over the radio and it broke." It was obvious by the tint of red that had spread over his cheeks that he had been the one in charge of cleaning the previous night. The customer strongly suspected that 'Todd' had had something to do with the coffee machine as well.
The blonde blew the air out of his lungs, creating a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a cough, and made his way away from the counter.
As he passed by the newspaper bin he let out another exasperated sigh accompanied by a set of expletives. It was empty.
The blonde had never before noticed the particular shade of green of the plush carpet that covered the room's floor, but as he made his way to his secluded table, he appreciated the jade fluff. His entire posture- shoulders hunched, feet dragging, head bowed- spoke of defeat. He looked like he could sink no lower than wherever he currently was. He looked like he would not be able to drag himself back to common grounds if he were to sink any lower. And he certainly felt that way.
The first thing to make its way into his line of vision, as he got closer to the table was its foot. The dark wood had been smoothed over and varnished some time before, but it still remained unmarred. Were he to raise his head, his gaze would follow up the leg of the table and eventually come to rest on its shiny round surface. Instead, he kept his head bowed and continued on his slow progress to the seat he knew was on the other side of the wooden support. He continued until another object made its way in front of his eyes. A shoe. A simple, black-leather shoe, behind which another shoe, exactly the same, was tucked. The back one was swinging back and forth evenly from its position perched on its brother's back, swaying to an imaginary beat.
Attached to each black covered foot was a long jean-clad leg, the thighs of which disappeared under the cover of the small tabletop. Above the table, the body continued. A flat upper stomach covered by a black cotton button-down shirt gave way to an equally flat chest, from which sprung two slim arms. A thin neck followed, then the soft line of a jaw, neither thick nor thin lips, a pointed nose, high cheekbones, long black lashes, big bright green eyes, and a mop of messy black hair. The lips pulled upwards into a tight smirk. A deep rich voice that fit the body perfectly filled the blonde's world.
"Can I help you with anything?"
The standing man began spluttering, waving his arms frantically in the air. "That's my spot!!" He finally managed to get out.
An amused look sparkled in the other's eyes as he repeated in an incredulous tone, "Your spot?"
The puerility of what he had said hit him hard. "That is to say, I usually sit here. Every morning for the past two years I have sat here. I was merely surprised at finding someone else occupying it."
Disappointment flashed across the dark-haired man's face before disappearing into a sea of cheerfulness. The boyish face was oddly familiar to the coffee-less one, but also slightly disconcerting. A shiver suddenly wracked his small frame.
"Well, I'll just leave you to it then." The man got up to leave, but a quick glance to his table on the blonde's part made him lay a gentle hand on the stranger's shoulder, stilling all movement. A half-empty mug of tea and a ruffled newspaper lay there.
"No! You were here first, I don't even have anything, I'll go…elsewhere." He smiled and took his hand off of the other's back.
"Are you sure? After all, this is your table."
"Yes, I'm sure. I'm actually going to go because I came for coffee but they have none and they're out of newspapers, so I'll just get a head start on my work today."
A blush spread across his cheeks as he realized how much he had been babbling, and to make matters worse, the green-eyed man spoke up. "Hmmm…I think I know enough about you to merit a name, don't I?"
Still blushing, he struck out a pale hand to shake the other's darker one. "Draco, Draco Malfoy. Pleased to meet you."
A warm hand encased his. "Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you too."
And with that and a small smile, Draco took his leave. As the door closed behind him, a small voice in the corner of the room could be heard. "Pleased to meet you, indeed."
In the background, an irate looking waiter by the nametag of 'Todd' was looking around holding a fresh pot of coffee.
Finally, as he reached the light to cross the street and make his way to work, the flash of green from the traffic light took him back to the previous morning, when a certain black haired, green-eyed stranger had eyed him from across the room. Had he been holding a mug of coffee, he would have dropped it.
