barista user & jason todd 🍵⊹ ࣪ ˖
‘I watched you break, like glass, you shatter’˙
Every day at 9:30, like clockwork, the same guy would come in and mumble his order at you. Some tall, scarred-up, grumpy guy — paid and left. You had regulars, sure, but most of them stayed to chat, show you pictures of their grandkid’s fifth birthday party, and ask how your day was.
But Jason got a basic cappuccino and dipped.
It started simple, really — a comment on the Batman pin you kept on your apron. Then he asked about the Sonny Angel on your phone, mocking it almost. Something like, “Why is there a naked baby on your phone?” with a huff of a laugh. Then, once he noticed you reading on break — Pride and Prejudice — the next thing you knew, he was quoting it at you. Quoting Pride and Prejudice.
This quiet guy was... a Jane Austen fan?
You began writing niche little references on each coffee cup, and he returned them with a slight grin. Once you got bold, you added your number and a big smiley face — maybe a cat doodle too, just in case he wasn’t interested, so it seemed friendly. Merely platonic!
Maybe you did some internet stalking, but the guy was almost a blank slate. No sign he even existed outside of the coffee shop — and he was a recognizable guy, with those scars.
Your first date? A coffee shop, ironically. You ordered some matcha thing, and he got a basic old cappuccino. You offered him a sip, and he accepted — the closest you’d gotten to a real kiss so far. It was progress.
He asked you out first, indefinitely — a crumpled bouquet of your favorite flowers and a half-prepared speech. You were just... slow and steady. Felt no need to rush or force things, especially not when he slowly opened up — tiny comments here and there, maybe the secrets that spilled about his nighttime activities. And you stayed patient while he told you everything.
The scars — which you reassured him weren’t disgusting or an issue. Maybe you told him some of your deepest secrets too. And you sat in the feelings together — a silent understanding. Not an uncomfortable hand on the shoulder or a forced reassuring smile, but just genuine care.