Some things are like a twist of fate in their own regards. Toris isn't much of a coffee shop goer; it's kind of pricey in general, and he likes his coffee black, made at home, as a quick, tasty boost to the day. So, he doesn't tend to wander into coffee shops often or at all really. But as he's walking just a little past his house, he gets a look in the window.
It's just a local Starbuck's; it's own presence a common one, not one to marvel at or speculate over. It just exists, and right now it's not busy, and there's a woman at the counter, the barista, with wavy blonde hair and a tired smile. She's bored; her head resting on her hands as if it belonged there.
And her eyes are blue, blue like the ocean or the sky, delicate and wild, expansive and gorgeous, something that you could stare into for hours and still never find the end of. She's beauitiful simply put, but that isn't what makes him pause.
What would her voice sound like? Would it sound like the busy humdrum of boredom, slow and casual, like the day can't wait to end? Would it be full of pip and excitent, pretty in all of the ways, it drags beauty back into the world, kicking and screaming all over again. Would it be soft, like a whisper to be shared just between them?
Would her voice be loud, in all of the awkwardness that people don't realize is beautiful in their own voices? The excitement that jumps up and up, and reminds one distinctly of a snare drum. Really, what would her voice sound like?
Toris imagines that it would be beautiful in the way that she is beautiful, and coffee shops are not his typical choice of venue, but how could he not walk in and hear her voice for the very first time?
"Hi! What would you like today, sir?" The 'sir' is almost automatic, a Southern drawl hugging the words, and within her voice is a kind of energy that acts as if she couldn't have been bored just a few moments ago. It's melodic in both it's slow drawl and its quick paced excitement. It's loud, not at all a whisper, but not bursting your ear drums loud. It's beautiful.
"Uh, a Chai Latte?" Can one order a black coffee at a coffeeshop; a quick, cursory glance at the Starbuck's menu offers no insight to the question in his mind, but it does give a quick order. The top of the menu simply says, 'Chai Latte,' as if he should know what it is. There is no explanation, no description, and Toris is out of his element entirely.
"Sure. What size?" She's leaning off to the side, but it isn't like she's bored anymore, just like she's relaxed. That's good, because Toris is starting to feel a little too impulsive. Nerves have assaulted his heart like nothing else, and he's not entirely sure what to do about them, other than listen to their suffocating remarks and try not to show his own awkwardness.
"The smallest one, please!" Toris begs that the conversation doesn't drag on, because he's still not sure what exactly he's doing at Starbuck's, just that he's finally heard her voice, as if the couple minutes outside were hours that just dragged on and on, and he's stunned by just how beautiful it is, by how much it fits her.
"Alright, here we go." And she sets off to work with the ease and familiarity of someone who has been doing this for a while, and Toris isn't quite sure what to tell her, even as she hands him his coffee, and he's paid and is headed out, with a gentle "Have a good day!" behind him, a beautiful farewell.
And in his affectionate heart, it sounds like the best and the most beautiful of goodbyes, without any of the edge or the drama, without any staleness either. It's just simply beautiful, just like the woman who spoke it.
Just how does one go about introducing himself to such an incredible woman that works at his very local Starbuck's? All Toris can figure out is that maybe "hi," would be a good start, nothing else seems to fit quite right. But what comes after that one, very simple word? Is there a word for it?
Toris still isn't sure by the time he walks back into the Starbuck's almost a week later, a full five days, an eternity.
"Hi." He greets, a little awkwardly, and she smiles back at him. Her name tag says 'Amelia,' which reminds him of Amelia Earhart, a woman who was absolutely incredible at flying planes, and this woman standing before him expertly flies his heart like a plane. It fits. Quite nicely, even though the words really do fail him in this moment.
"Hi!" She chimes, a beautiful bell-like response, full of the energy and joy that is hard to discover in anyone, and it's absolutely beautiful to behold.
"Uh, do you sell black coffee?" Toris tries, a little awkwardly, not that the Chai Latte wasn't good from five days ago, just that the woman who sold it to him was so much sweeter than the coffee. Always, she would be, Toris speculated.
"We sure do!" Amelia chimed, with a brilliant smile, and despite the passion of his nerves, he still felt a little more relaxed.
"I'm Toris." He finally tells her, "And I'll take a large black coffee then."
"Hi, Toris." She smiles, and just the way that she says his name spikes a kind of warmth and awe all the way up to his chest, until his heart is beating with the sound of it all. "I'm Amelia."
"That's a beautiful name." He gets out, and as she hands him his coffee, he can almost imagine a bright future stretching out between the two of them.
"Thank you!" Amelia looks so absolutely delighted, that Toris's heart swells with an incredible amount of warmth, though it hadn't went cold from the last time either. "Toris is a cool name. Will you be back again?"
"Of course." And he doesn't know where the confidence comes from at all, but it's there, and Toris is already excited to slowly get to know the beautiful barista, the incredible Amelia, in the coming months, and maybe one day, he'll work up the courage and the confidence to actually tell her how he feels.