Chapter Text
“What do you mean I’m fired?!” Betty screeched, bewildered that her boss would ever drop her at a moment’s notice like this. Melanie and herself had been great acquaintances, and Betty had never once missed a shift.
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. Really. The café’s shutting down. Oscar and I just can’t fund it anymore. Here’s your final cheque.” Melanie dug around in her handbag and produced a small piece of paper, amounting to just enough in order for Betty to get by for the next two weeks.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Well, thanks for the cheque anyways. I’ll see you around.” Betty fled the scene, pushing open the glass door, and immediately feeling the biting cold of early January in New York.
She reached in to her coat pocket and wrapped her fingers around the wool of soft, pink mittens and pulled them out, sliding her hands in to them, ensuring the extra warmth. Her suede Chelsea boots were unfortunately getting damp in the snow, and cold was biting at her nose, so Betty decided that she would be better off getting in somewhere cosy, as she had nowhere to be. Soon enough, she spied a small coffee shop across the street, and hurriedly weaved her way through bright yellow taxi cabs, checking left and right to make sure she was safe. But coincidence was not on her side today, and as soon as Betty reached the curb, she turned around and stepped straight into the path of stranger, colliding with their chest and accidentally spilling their coffee with a flail of her hand.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Betty says, turning quickly to face this foreign being.
“No, it’s my fault, I wasn’t looking. Did I spill any of my americano on you?” A male voice answered.
Betty panned up, past his black jeans, past his denim Sherpa jacket, and met his eyes, slightly hidden behind a lock of curled black hair. Betty stopped, slightly lost for words.
“I- um, no, I- I think I’m alright.” He paused, took a deep breath in and saw her. Her peachy scent, her honey-coloured curls, her stripy sweater and finally, her olive eyes that twinkled in the reflection of the fresh dusting of snow. He couldn’t help the small grin that escaped.
“Could I interest you in a hot beverage?” He queried in a joking tone. “I think I might need a refill.” Betty smiled.
“I would love to.”