ℂ𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕠𝕡 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕜 - ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖: 𝕎𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕎𝕖𝕣𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖
Bertholdt Hoover x Annie Leonhardt Beruani Coffee Shop AU
Published: 9/30/2021
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Masterpost
Ko-Fi
Bertholdt woke up the next few mornings more excited for the day than most people, especially considering that he gets up before most office employees and warehouse workers. Hell, sometimes, he even saw a boy on his bike delivering newspapers as he walked to work. It was kind of a brutal gig, but it paid the bills and now he kinda had something to look forward to in the mornings.
The shitty part was, he didn’t see Annie for another four days after their previous interaction, not that he was counting or anything. If she didn’t show up for a morning coffee for another day, he would maybe convince himself that it was logical to start worrying. Even if he did start worrying, it’s not like he would be able to do anything about it. He tried to imagine exactly how that would go down.
‘Hi, I’d like to report a missing person. Her name is Annie. I can’t tell you anything else about her but she does like Java chip coffees.’
Bert shook his head at his own stupid imagination, making his way to the cafe door and unlocking it. If his hands weren’t full with his keys unlocking the shitty front door that nearly required an angry bull to unlock, he would have slapped himself upside the head. He flicked on the lamp and started preparing for the day, getting lost in his own little world. He must’ve spent about an hour preparing baked goods in the display case, making sure he had all the ingredients he’d need for the day at his station, and cleaning his workspace. A customer came in to disturb his peace briefly, but it was just to use the restroom. After he left, he seriously contemplated locking the door behind him to open the coffee shop an hour late, just so he could have his well-deserved peace and quiet. Pyxis would certainly have his ass, but it would probably be worth it.
He was glad he didn’t, though, because as he was wiping down the coffee bar for what felt like the seventeenth time this morning, the doorbell jingled. He looked up before spouting his usual greeting, and couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his face as a petite blonde entered the building.
“Good morning,” he nearly breathed.
He couldn’t help that the greeting sounded a little more friendly and warm, and a little less ‘please leave a tip’. She returned his greeting with a silent nod. If the lighting weren’t so poor due to the singular lamp combating with the not-yet risen sun, the light blush on Annie’s face may have been visible, thanks to Bertholdt’s direct attention.
“What can I get you today?”
She pondered at the menu for a moment, which allowed him a moment to observe his surroundings in order to avoid just staring at her as she decided. She noticed this and took this as an opportunity to really look him over. Though he had a very lanky figure, he had strong, broad shoulders. He sported a navy blue long sleeve, which he had rolled up to his elbows. His hair was strategically ruffled, in a way that if it were any longer, it would be considered shaggy. Upon first glance, his eyes appeared to give off a dull black color, but if she looked close enough, she could swear they were actually a shining silver. She didn’t know how long she had been examining him, but it must’ve been long enough for his gaze to meet hers. Both of their faces began to heat up at the interaction.
“A white hot chocolate and a scone… please.” She said carefully.
It’s not that she was rude and didn’t say please and thank you to people, but her tone behind the formality felt different. He noticed it as well, allowing his head to perk up a bit as he entered her order into the machine before him. The smallest hint of a smile graced his lips at her response as he murmured something along the lines of ‘it’ll be out in just a few minutes.’
She took this time to eyeball the coffee shop, never having stuck around for more than a few minutes. She was almost always the first customer here in the mornings, having to have an early start to her day. She noticed the rustic feel of the shop, with various colored seating everywhere. Each table had eccentric chairs paired with them, almost like they had their own separate personalities. If she stayed here long enough, maybe she’d pick a favorite. The booths all had the same kind of worn out diner seating, complete with peeling leather. She found herself drawn to a velvet, olive green reading chair wedged into the furthest corner of the small shop. She could picture herself curling up in that chair as a young girl, lost in her fantasy book of the week. The chair probably witnessed a lot of that in its former life, wherever it was before it found its forever-home here.
“You’re welcome to stay.”
Anne whipped around with a gasp, being met with the tall figure that was once behind the counter. She wasn’t expecting a voice to be that close behind her. Their eyes locked for maybe a moment too long before Bertholdt took a step back and cleared his throat. He extended his arm to hand her the drink she ordered, which she had all but forgotten about. He mumbled something about the scone being in a paper bag on the counter. He then found himself looking at the floor, as if the scuffs and scrapes done by the chairs were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. Annie mimicked a noise that roughly translated to ‘pardon?’
“I uh-, I mean, you can hang around, if you’d like. Lots of people will sit here for hours with a book or crossword puzzle, y’know?”
She looked around once again before glancing back at him. Part of her wondered if he wanted her to stick around. Her theories inside her head were running wild, she was surprised he couldn’t hear them.
“I just mean, I’ve seen you here a few times, is all.”
He was definitely blushing. This was pretty bold of him to be asking a girl he hardly knew to hang around the shop. In his defense, he wasn’t directly asking her to spend time with him, but there also wasn’t anyone else in the small store.
She responded with a small nod, not one that was exactly a yes, but more so that she acknowledged the sentiment. She could maybe see herself hanging out here once in a while, as long as it wasn’t too crowded. He took her lack of verbal response as a ‘I’ll consider it’ kind of answer. It wasn’t exactly a no, though. He had a feeling that Annie was definitely the kind of person to stand her ground if she was uncomfortable with something. He didn’t know her very well at all,but sometimes you just get that feeling about a person.
There was something unspoken in their short interaction, but they were both aware of it. Something tiptoeing around understanding. She thanked him for the coffee before finally taking a sip. She let out a hum of satisfaction as the hot liquid directed energy through her veins. Bert would be lying if he said he didn’t find that to be adorable.
He spun on his heel and made his way back to the other side of his counter, back behind his safety coffee bar. Annie approached the bar to grab her bagged pastry. As she picked it up, she noticed the paper receipt under it. She glanced up, eyeing a distracted Bertholdt, who was once again tidying his work station. She quickly searched the counter for something to write with, making quick work of the pen laying by the register. She scribbled something onto the receipt and quickly hid the piece of paper as he turned back around. She was acting casual, taking another sip of her drink as if to linger in the shop for a moment longer.
“Sweet tooth?” He suddenly asked.
She slowly pulled the coffee cup away from her lips and eyed him for a moment.
“Pardon?”
“You always order those super sweet drinks. You must have a sweet tooth, huh?”
This much was obvious. He had no idea what he was doing, but he wanted to start a conversation. He wanted her to stay for just a moment longer, but he took note of the sugary caffeine she liked.
She nodded as a small blush crept across her features, joined by the corner of her lip twitching upward.
“Ever since I was a kid.” She provided.
He let out a huff of laughter. She decided that the noise was intoxicating, and what she wouldn’t do to hear more of it. Bertholdt turned for a brief moment, allowing Annie to have a moment out of his sight. Still clutching the receipt in her hands, she spotted the tip jar on the counter. She had kind of a silly idea, but if it worked out, it would be worth it. With his back still turned, she dropped the receipt into the tip jar almost being spotted by the tall boy behind the counter. She made her way towards the door before looking over her shoulder once more.
“See you around,” she said, sending another small smile his way.
He returned her gesture and waved, watching her walk out the door. To his horror, as she walked out, she nearly bumped into an ashy-haired man, clad in a red and black flannel, black slacks, and a casual grey t-shirt with a printed graphic of what looked like a coffee mug. They both mumbled their own versions of ‘excuse me’, and went on their way. Bertholdt’s blood ran cold as his eyes darted between the two, waiting for Jean to make an ass of himself as he brushed past Annie. The other boy finally made his way to the counter and peeled off his hoodie, due to the difference in temperature inside the coffee shop. He turned to greet his coworker, bundling the clothing item in his hands.
“Hey man, g’morning- why do you look like that?” Jean instantly became suspicious.
Bertholdt had the worst poker face in existence, and he’ll never know how he managed to act like a normal person in front of Annie. He’s surprised and also proud of himself that he hadn’t broken down and confessed some sort of admiration to the girl yet.
“L-look like what?” Bert tried, hoping Jean would drop it.
He did not.
“No, no, you usually look gangly and weird considering you’re twice the height of a normal person, but there’s something wrong with you. Like more than usual.”
Bertholdt let out a huff. Even when his friend was trying to interrogate him, he still took every opportunity to make a comment about his height. Asshole. He shrugged and muttered something incoherent.
“Y’know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just embarrassed yourself in front of a girl or something-,” he stopped the second the words came out of his mouth.
His eyes widened as he looked at Bertholdt for confirmation, who was growing red in the face.
“She was here, wasn’t she?” He interrogated, channeling the most wide-eyed, excited look he could muster.
Bertholdt attempted to stutter out an excuse to get Jean to lay off, but there was no use. If he could harass or embarrass someone, he could practically put his own life in danger just to do it. Jean promptly ignored his friend’s attempts at speaking, continuing his line of questioning. As his mouth was running a mile a minute, Bert made the mistake of eyeing the door that Annie had just walked out of. Jean’s eyes got even wider, miraculously, as he caught on to the taller boy’s body language.
“That was her, wasn’t it? I just walked by her! Hell, I bumped into her!”
He beelined for the door, pushing it open and half-leaning out as he looked both ways down the street, ignoring the cold burst of wind that chilled his bones. Right now, his concern was not that he was hoodie-less, but that the girl that had somehow caught his friend’s attention walked right by him, and he didn’t even notice! This wasn’t to say that the girl he’d been talking about couldn’t be attractive, but when it came to women, Bertholdt was about as attentive as a toddler. He continued to eye each person as they continued their treks into the cold weather, not paying him any mind. He soon gave up when he didn’t find any young blonde girls in his sight. Jean let out a huff and made his way back to Bertholdt, who had an unamused look on his face.
“Are you done?” Bert asked, crossing his arms.
“With?” Jean replied smugly.
“With making an ass of yourself! What are you trying to accomplish?”
Jean provided some sort of excuse about wanting to meet Annie, and how he was just looking out for Bertholdt. It took all of ten seconds for Bertholdt to see through his friend’s bullshit.
“Yeah, right. Knock it off, Jean. One of these days, you being a nosy prick is going to come back to bite you in the ass.”
The ashy-haired man shrugged his friend’s comment off. They spent the rest of their shift picking at each other, and making insulting comments about the other. They were once again running as the well-oiled machine that made them such compatible coworkers. The day was filled with the two boys rushing past each other, exchanging bottles and coffee-making-vessels that the other needed. By the end of the shift, they both had various sugars and coffee ingredients speckled and smeared across their shirts. Jean even had a piece of paper straw stuck in his hair.
“Hey man, do you just wanna crash at mine? Today was brutal,” Bertholdt offered.
He was exhausted, to say the least. Not to brag about himself, but he was the kind of guy to easily run a 12 hour shift without stopping, so if he was exhausted, Jean had to be dead on his feet. Jean let out a groan that came from the heart.
“Yes, please. I drove to work today so we can take my shitbox home,” Jean suggested, referring to his beat up car.
They were both grateful that they didn’t have to make the trek back to Bertholdt’s apartment on foot. Today felt like one of those days his grandparents would always refer to where they’d walk to school ‘for three miles in the snow, uphill both ways.’ The coffee shop was only open until the late afternoon, except on certain occasions, so once it started slowing down around 2pm, the boys started cleaning up. Finally, by 3, it was nearly dead. The only movement inside the shop was from a clock ticking mercilessly away on the wall. They threw the last bit of the dirty dishes either in the sink or dishwasher, deciding to be dealt with tomorrow. Jean was standing around, waiting on Bert to finish his final cleanliness inspection. The raven haired boy urged his friend to go on.
“I’ll only be a second, go start up the car or something,” he suggested.
Jean shrugged and made his way outside, tugging his hoodie closer to his thin frame as the wind whipped at his exposed skin. Inside, Bertholdt did one final look-around before his eyes landed on the glass jar at the edge of the counter. He made his way over to the tip jar, deciding he’d split the tips left in there with Jean. As he gathered the crumbled bills and loose change, his fingers brushed something familiar. It felt more like paper than a dollar bill would. He pocketed the money, mentally noting to divide it up later, and grabbed the piece of paper. It felt like a receipt.
His brow furrowed as he examined the folded sheet. He unfolded it carefully, making sure not to damage it. As the paper laid in his hand, the small smile that he’d become accustomed to found its way back to his face.
Maybe next time.
-Annie
He folded the receipt back up and tucked it into his other pocket, opposite from the money. He decided he’d bring it home and keep it with the first one.