AN: Hey y'all! This is my first attempt at a non-one-shot story in a long time. Hopefully it turns out alright xD I'm hoping to take a rather unique perspective on the whole barista Percabeth AU thing. Leave a review please! Knowing what y'all think help keeps me motivated and can also aid me in my ideas.
Minor Side Note: When I describe how drinks are made and such, I'm drawing on my own experience in a small coffee shop. So if there's any baristas out there who are like, "That's not how you make coffee" or whatever, just know, this is based on how I was taught. Don't flame me for it. Thanks :)
Now, onto the fluff.
Percy hated coffee. Hated it. With a passion. But, when a family friend offers a job with no job interview, to a seventeen-year-old, said seventeen-year-old is loathe to refuse. Which is how Percy found himself working in a café. Making coffee. Which he hated. With a passion.
None of his friend understood it. He didn't understand it. He could make any coffee drink, do crazy latte art, and immediately memorize a customer's favorite drink. But he couldn't actually bring himself to like coffee. Perhaps that was just more proof of Frank's point he was a walking paradox.
Running a hand through his messy black hair, the teenager sighed as he leaned on the counter by the register. It was an incredibly slow day, right in the deadest of dead times for the small café. Midafternoon on a Wednesday, weather perfect for anything outdoors in the summer. Looking out the window of the café, he could see parents and their kids playing in the park and knew the last thing they would come in for was a hot cup of coffee.
Every once in a while, someone would walk by the café and Percy would perk up, hoping to any higher power that possibly existed someone would walk through that door and he would have something to do. But… nope. After about the tenth person walked by, Percy, sitting on a stool, laid his head on the counter and sighed, staring square at his black and orange Converse. This was going nowhere.
He'd been working for the past three hours, overlapping shifts with his coworker Leo for the possible lunch rush. Leo left at 2 and had been gone for an hour, leaving Percy alone. There wasn't even any clean-up. How can it be this dead? It's never this dead.
Head still on the counter, he dimly registered the sound of a bell tinkling by his ear. Slowly raising his head, Percy's eyes widened as he realized a customer was standing at the counter. Perking up immediately, Percy tried for a suave smile before a terrible realization occurred to him. When he had perked up, he had leaned back. But… that wasn't the worst of it. It wasn't like he just leaned back.
Percy had leaned too far back.
And now he was falling.
Lovely.
His only thought as he went down was a brief registering of the customer's curly blonde hair. And then the pain hit as he landed on his backside, his back crashing into a cabinet behind him. Groaning, he blinked a few times to catch his bearings before looking up at the customer. A small smirk played across his lips before the ever-cool teen asked, "So, how may I help you?"
Percy's face flushed as he saw the customer trying not to laugh. Gradually standing up, the now slightly sore teen shook out his limbs, making sure they were all functioning. "No, no, please, laugh at the poor barista boy's expense. No one has ever been a klutz before."
The customer shook her head, eyes lighting with a bit of concern, but a whole lot of mirth. "That… you sure you can help me? Can't even help yourself off a stool."
Percy rolled his eyes, "Well, aren't you a wise girl. Thanks for noticing, Captain Obvious" Then he stopped and flushed again, realizing he had broken one of the biggest rules of dealing with a customer: never use sarcasm or insult a customer.
Smirking, the customer retorted, "Someone's in a mood."
Resisting the urge to respond mockingly, Percy did his best to arrange his facial features in a more polite and apologetic manner, "Sorry, I just fell on my butt, so not necessarily thinking straight. How may I help you?"
Rolling her eyes, the blonde glanced at the menu before responding, "Medium Irish Cream latte please."
Percy nodded, writing down the order and punching it into the cash register. Without even looking at the total, he quickly responded, "Four dollars," which was soon followed by the ever repetitive process of the American currency system.
The blonde teen took a dollar and slipped it in the tip jar on the counter, "For your medical bills after that fall."
Percy rolled his eyes before his lips twitched slightly, threatening to turn into a sheepish grin. Quickly attempting to hide the smile from his customer, Percy spun around on his heel and began working on the drink. A medium cup was pulled from the stack and twirled through the air before being caught. With practiced ease, Percy slid a step to his right and began pulling a double shot of espresso. A thought crossed his mind and he called over his shoulder, "Is this for here or to go?"
The blonde opened her mouth, starting to answer, "To…" She trailed off, tilting her head for a moment, "Do you have wifi?"
Percy pasued, turning off the espresso machine as the two shot glasses were filled with a perfect double shot. He turned to look at the customer dead on, definitely not noticing the curve of her cheeks or how her hair was braided down the middle. Clicking his tongue, Percy smirked, "What d'ya mean, 'do I have wifi'? It's a first world café. Of course we have wifi."
The customer's stormy grey eyes rolled before sighing, "I mean, may I have the password for it?"
Percy's lips threatened to do the sheepish grin. Definitely not unnaturally, Percy turned his back to the customer again, focusing his attention, as well as he could, on the five pumps of syrup for the drink, "Yeah, I'll bring it over to you when I bring your drink out. I'm assuming you're drinking this in… here…?" His words trailed off as he glanced over his shoulder again, only to see her already finding a table. He also definitely didn't notice how nice she looked in that particular pair of soccer pants.
That's a customer, you idiot.
Honestly though, this wasn't the first time something like this had happened. He knew it was a stereotype, but girls liked their coffee and he was one of two teenage guys working in the café. He noticed, heck, he attempted flirting on occasion. She wasn't the first cute blonde to walk through that door, and she likely wouldn't be the last.
Taking a deep breath, Percy focused on finishing up the Irish Cream latte. Under his breath, Percy began muttering the instructions on how to pour steamed milk to himself. "Alright, tilt the cup, start low with the pour, move high. Circles time. And push closer now. Make the circle of foam. Draw the line. And a heart. Bam. Perfect!" And that is when his anxiety decided to rev its engine and roar through him full steam ahead.
What if she takes the heart the wrong way? What if she thinks I'm hitting on her? I don't wanna be that guy, who just hits on any cute girl who walks through. Frick. She's gonna think I'm a creep. And then I'll never get her business again. And then Demeter will kick my butt. Cause she'll find out on the security camera. Frick. Frick. Frick. Oh! I know. Stir the coffee. Mess up the latte art. Wait, but what if she likes the latte art? What if she won't come back because I had messy latte art? Or none at all? What if she's that type of coffee snob…
Percy realized that he had been standing, staring at the latte art for quite a bit. Well. Suck it up. Maybe she won't take the lid off and you'll be safe. Maybe.
Percy attached a lid to the cup before finding a slip of paper with the wifi password in the register and bringing them both out to the customer's table. "One medium Irish Cream latte and one wifi password." He placed them both on the table before walking back behind the counter, both to escape a possible rush of anxiety again if she took off the lid and also because he had to go clean up the counter and dishes he used. At least, the second one was the excuse he gave himself to avoid the truth of the first reason.
He moved so quickly to return behind the counter, he failed to hear the customer's word of thanks or the way her eyes followed him across the café. However, once done with cleaning, Percy had to admit he definitely did notice the way the sun streamed through the windows and reflected off her, adding a bit of sun to those stormy grey eyes.