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Ice Dream

A snowbaz meet cute. For @4wksoffluff .

Summary: Baz works in an ice cream shop. Simon comes in for an ice cream. Cute crushing and pastel colours!

This shop doesn’t suit me at all. Yet, I still work here- the hours are flexible and the pay’s alright. It’s perfect for balancing work with Uni. The shop’s painted all pastel colours, and there are decorations all over the place, mostly following the fluffy theme of rainbows and unicorns. They make us wear a pastel pink uniform with a unicorn applique in the top right and a name tag written in bubble writing. ‘Baz’ does not look right in bubble writing, and I definitely don’t look right in pastel. Honestly, I don’t know why they hired me.

I’m rearranging the cones on the counter when he walks in. He’s perfect for this place, all soft golden tones and smiles. He’s walking up to the counter now, and I’m feeling a little jittery and nervous. I can’t get past his smile- it’s so genuine and, well, dreamy.

“Hello,” he says in a shyly jolly tone, meeting my eyes, then looking down quickly to scan the freezer and the signs. “Ah… could I have a double waffle cone- apple crumble and mint chocolate, with cherry topping and whipped cream please?” He smiles hopefully at me, his eyebrows rising and corners of his mouth curving upwards. I have to remind myself that I’m at work, and that I need to make his ice-cream order- not get lost in his smile or his curls or his mole and freckle constellated skin.

“Sure,” I say in my usual low, clipped tone. I’m trying not let my jitteriness show. “Sprinkles?” I ask.

“Definitely,” he replies, grinning again. He just can’t stop himself, can he? I grab a cone, wrap it in a pastel pink floral napkin, and start scooping his ice-cream. I like to get the scoops into perfect rounds, smooth spheres of ice-cream. It looks nice on the cone- I like to do everything with a quality touch. I’m doing the apple crumble scoop (and it’s going surprisingly well given that my hands are starting to tremble a bit) when he asks me “How’s your day been?” I’m surprised- I’m not used to talking to the customers, as I’m really supposed to be the one initiating conversations and ‘making them feel welcome’, but I try to avoid doing it- it saves hassle and having to talk to boring people. Not many customers start conversations with me, only the really chatty ones tend to do it- and they just keep rambling on themselves, content with a few ‘mmmhmm’s and ‘oh’s from me. But this bloke, he’s asking me a question, so it catches me off guard a bit.

“Oh, fine,” I utter in reply, placing the scoop of apple crumble flavoured ice cream on the cone.

“That’s good,” he says, sticking his hands in his pocket and swaying on his feet a little. “I, I-I like your hair,” he says quietly, and I almost choke. The golden man, complimenting my hair. “Baz,” he adds. I look up a from where I was bent over, scooping the mint-choc, and he’s still smiling, but it seems a little nervous now.

“Thanks,” I reply, my heart rate speeding up. “I like yours too.” I quickly look down, placing the mint-choc scoop on the cone. I go to the back counter to decorate his ice cream with the cherry topping and sprinkles. I briefly contemplate putting the cherry topping sauce in a heart shape, but decide that would be taking it too far. He’s cute, and I don’t want to scare him off. I pass him his ice cream, and he asks me another question.

“Do you, uh, work here often?” he asks, still smiling nervously. I laugh a little because I think he’s actually flirting with me, which is adorable.

“Yes, I do,” I say, and then “Eftpos?” Which is incredibly unromantic but I guess we’ll just have to deal with it seeing it’s part of my job.

“Yep,” he says, and I slide the machine his way.

“What’s your name?”

“Simon,” he says.

“Well,” I say, smiling at him this time, “see you around, Simon.”