8, Roman to Logan ( Bonus points if Logan says "Are you having a stroke?" Or smth similar) XD
This was fun! Hopefully it kind of makes up for the angst I wrote earlier! Only one for tonight, I have a big day tomorrow!
“Virgil, look! It’s the cute nerd again!” Roman whispered as he noticed the newest customer of the morning, hitting his fellow barista’s arm excitedly. “Look at him. The gods hath blessed us mere mortals with his loveliness.”
“Stop going Shakespeare and go and take his order,” Virgil grumbled, pushing Roman away from the coffee machine. “And maybe today you can gain the balls to actually ask him out.” He added not-so quietly. Roman flipped him off under the counter, rolling his eyes when Virgil only smirked knowingly in reply.
So what if he hadn’t asked the cute nerd out? It wasn’t his fault that cute nerd reduced him to a blushy mess.
“Welcome to Patton Cake, what can I get for you today?” Roman smiled, the perfectly rehearsed lines flowing out of him. He could do this part. He had done this part a million times. It was the following improvisation that always, always tripped him up.
“Can I get a large espresso and an unheated chocolate croissant?” Cute nerd looked tired as he rooted around for money. If he was anything like Roman, professors were probably putting the pressure on him about the upcoming exams.
“Sure. Your total is…” Roman pretended to read the cash register. “One phone number. Yours, specifically.” He looked to the cute nerd, winking casually at him.
Cute nerd blinked, which made him look adorably confused, up until the moment he opened his mouth. “Are you having a stroke?”
Distantly, Roman could hear Virgil absolutely losing it in the background, his face burning hot as he looked literally anywhere but at cute-now-kind-of-asshole nerd’s face. “8 dollars and 50 cents.” He muttered, wishing now that the ground would swallow him alive.
Once that awkward interaction was over, he made his hasty retreat to the back of the shop, shooting a venomous glare at a still-chuckling Virgil. Let him deal with customers. Roman was going to sulk and clean dishes.
“If you make one comment abo-” Roman began, turning to glare at Virgil once more.
“He left his number for you.” Virgil waved the note with said number in Roman’s face. “Said that he’s sorry, and he’s not great with interaction. ‘Specially not with, and I quote, ‘Gorgeous specimens of the species homo sapiens who appear to be more suited to extravagant parties than a coffee shop.’ Your nerd is pretty wordy. You’re a perfect match.”
Roman had never snatched something so quickly out of someone’s hands.
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