A/N: Yes, it's a coffee shop AU. Yes, frappuccinos are romantic.

The little bell sounded as the door opened and Ginny looked up, heart pounding. Four o'clock. There she was. As she came every day.

Hair the color of the tufts on the corn behind Ginny's home, held in a messy bun by a glittery purple pen. Long eyelashes framing bright, almost wild eyes, above a mouth that couldn't decide whether it was smiling, or asking a question. Today her attire was even more eclectic than usual: a bright yellow blouse with orange ruffles; purple layered skirt; red knee-high socks; and scuffed white leather boots, which appeared to have been drawn on with a sharpie. Despite her unusual appearance, Ginny's heart always skipped a beat when she came through the door. She could say it was the only most interesting thing that happened every work day, and that would certainly be true. But it wouldn't be the whole truth.

A sharp pain in her hands woke Ginny from her lesbian stupor. She looked down to see that the coffee cup she was filling had overflowed onto her hands. She cursed and went over to the sink to run the burn under cold water and wipe up the mess.

"Hullo?" a soft voice called. Ginny's breath caught in her throat. She turned and made her way to the counter quickly before Cindy, the other barista, could take the order.

"Sorry for the delay; what can I get for you? The usual?" she said in her best Customer Voice, trying to keep her cool as she met those periwinkle eyes…

"Yes, that would be lovely," said the girl. Ginny still didn't know her name.

"Green tea frappuccino with extra chocolate and no whipped cream?"

The girl's eyes flicked back from where they'd been resting on the middle of the wall. "That's very right."

"It'll be ready in a minute," she said, and winked, because apparently, she was insane. She whirled through the motions of preparation, prioritizing the precious green tea frappuccino above all else. In exactly one minute, she was at the girl's table by the window. Her notebook was out, and she'd taken her pen from her bun, releasing locks of hair over her shoulders. She only took out one thing at a time and then put it back in her bag, which Ginny found odd in such a disorganized-looking person.

"Here you go," she said, and leaned over her shoulder curiously at the loopy purple ink. "What're you writing?"

To her astonishment, a faint blush spread across the girl's cheeks. She didn't think she'd ever seen her flustered over the three weeks she'd been, er, observing her, not even when the people next to her table had started kissing, or a waiter had spilled her drink. "Oh, it's, er…" she looked down at the indecipherable writing. "I'll show you."

"Show me?"

"Yes. I'll let you read it."

Their eyes met. Ginny longed to fathom what was going on behind those honey-blond eyelashes…

"Ginny! Get over 'ere; it's rush hour, for God's sake."

She walked quickly back to the counter, cursing herself quietly. She couldn't let herself get distracted during work. Tryouts for the Bristol Women's Soccer team were a month away, and until then, she needed to keep her life under control. It had been so exciting when, two years ago, she'd finally gotten her own flat. She'd decorated the walls with photographs of her friends from school and even put a plant on the tiny window ledge. Getting the job at the café had been exciting, too. But things had soon turned boring. It was strange going to bed without the sounds of her twin brothers brewing fireworks in their room, strange waking up to only the sounds of morning traffic, and no one yelling downstairs. She'd wanted independence, it was true, but she hadn't wanted… she hadn't wanted to be alone.

Then a girl in a tie-dye rainbow skirt had glided through the door of Tintan Coffee Co. and asked for a green tea frappuccino without whipped cream, and Ginny felt something she never had before.

Her mind kept going back to the girl whose name she still didn't know and as the weeks past she looked forward to the hour and her mind went back to her now, as she served and prepared and washed cups of coffee and little brownies, and the shop slowly quieted and customers trickled out, leaving only the girl by the window.

"Er…" Ginny walked to her table. "We're closing…"

The girl looked up. "Oh. I know. I said I'd show you what I'm working on, though." And she handed her a piece of notebook paper and walked out of the shop.

It read:

Luna Lovegood

Call me

(605) 475 6961

Ginny stared at the paper, and then she began to laugh. Luna Lovegood. A fitting name. It seemed that things were about to get much more interesting.