GertChase - Coffee Shop AU
Thank you so much @dfriendly for trusting me with this AU idea, it is so unbelieveably cute. And I had to write a little ficlet to go along with it.
She keeps trying to remind herself that he is not her type.
That her heart doesn’t give a girly little flutter when he flashes that irritatingly perfect smile at her.
That that smile isn’t the highlight of her week.
He comes in now, to theie little cafe, almost like clockwork, every Tuesday, at 2.00pm, without fail.
He looks a little out of place, his hoodie, the sports bag, everything about him tells her that maybe he would be better placed at the Starbucks across the street.
But here he is walking up to her counter, smile broad on his face while Gert tries to remember how to take an order.
“The usual?” she manages as she reaches for a cup from the top of the coffee machine. The black felt tip pen heavy in her hand as she is ready to write his name ‘Chase’.
Even his name seems out of place.
“Yeah,” he nods, as Gert finishes writing cursing his smile and it’s effect one more time. She moves to the machine as his voice stops her. “ And another order.” he adds and Gert feels a sinking in the pit of her stomach. Another one, another coffee. Probably on a date, naive of her to think that someone with a smile like that, wouldn’t be single. Or at least have a flock of girls following him around she thinks bitterly.
“What kind?” she asks, trying to keep her voice even, while in her mind she is preoccupied with imagining the many possible demise of this mystery ‘someone’.
“Well,” he hesitates and she looks up at him, meeting his eyes noticing that the usual smile is now replaced by a seemingly nervous one. “It depends.”
“On?,” she noticing now the line developing behind him, a few of the regulars tapping their feet impatiently.
“What kind of coffee you drink. And when your shift finishes.”
Gert’s hand hovers over the pile of cups kept near the machine as she processes his words. Could he actually, no, he couldn’t be asking her out.
He stuffs his hands back into his pockets when she doesn’t say anything. “Or not.”
“A soy latte,” she responds, when her mouth allows her to form words again. “And I get off at three.”
And then there’s that brilliant smile again, just for her.
