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She notices him staring from his regular seat in the corner. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, a giant of a man with a stern face and a distant politeness. One of her regulars, comes in every Saturday like clockwork. One large cinnamon cold brew, no sugar, splash of cream. He sits and he types and he sips at his drink.
And he stares.
She’s used to such looks, honestly. Even in her unflattering work clothes and stained apron she knows she draws their eyes. And she hates it, hates the way they stare at her in appraisal, deciding her worth with a glance. She hates the forced civility she has to play at when she speaks with them, when they approach her for casual conversation, leaning up on her counter and adopting their flirtatious little poses. She hates that they think they can buy her like this, a few sweet words and a promise of “a good time.”
The man in the corner gives his order by no-nonsense rote, the same thing every week. He never bothers her again after he retreats to his seat but sometimes, especially when one of the other patrons is leaning into her space, dirtying up her counter, she can feel his gaze on her. Sometimes she can even get a glimpse of cold, blue eyes.
Apparently, she has been staring, too, because Simon approaches her one day with, “Why don’t you just go talk to him?”
She whips around, almost dropping the mug she had been arranging, to stare at the blond, eyes wide. “What?” she says, though she knows who he’s referring to.
He gives her a wry glance. “Your little regular over there. Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome.” He nods his head over towards his corner like she doesn’t know exactly where he sits. “You’re always glancing over at him when he comes around. If you like him, you should go for it.”
North takes a short, stuttering breath, his words like a punch to her solar plexus. “I don’t know what you mean, Simon. He’s just another customer.”
He stares, incredulous, before turning back to cleaning the milk steamer. “Alright, North. If that’s what you say.”
And it is what she says. She’ll hear nothing more of this.
But his words stay with her over the next few weeks. She realizes she has been watching him, taking in the way he sips his drink (lid removed, straight from the rim), sits in his seat (back perfectly straight, posture impeccable), taps his foot to the music playing over the speakers (he prefers the old jazzy numbers to the more contemporary pieces). She thinks of how he might look nicer with some color to him, not just the stark blacks and whites she always sees him in. (She wonders if he has a girlfriend. Boyfriend. Anyone .)
The second Saturday of January comes just like any other. It’s cold and miserable and people flock to the shop for the chance of a warm beverage to thaw themselves out. Their seasonal favorites are still going strong and the scent of peppermint and cinnamon are inescapable, saturating the air with a strong, spicy aroma. She is in the middle of her usual lunch rush when she hears the door chime. She spares a glance and wonders just when her heart began to stutter when she sees him.
The stutter becomes more pronounced when she sees the gorgeous blonde hanging off his arm.
She takes her customer’s orders by rote, her mind numb but her fingers practiced. Before long, it is His turn to order.
“Hello again, ma’am. One large cinnamon cold brew, splash of cream, no sugar, please,” he says in that deep, smooth voice. “And a large peppermint chai latte for the lady, if you would. Thank you.” The girl on his arm smiles up at him, playfully swatting at his shoulder and North feels her heart sink at the sight of them, the quirk of his lips a lovely image but one belonging to someone else.
She puts on her best service smile as she rings up the total but she feels almost dazed as she she watches them retreat to his usual spot. She continues taking orders, the lunch rush as demanding as usual, but at the first sign of a break she finds herself glancing over his way.
He’s smiling at his companion, his eyes warm and his face breaking from it’s stoic mold to rise up in a genuine grin. The blonde girl is laughing, her hand reaching out to rest on his forearm, and North looks away.
Goddammit. Simon was right.
Luckily, it’s Josh working counter with her today and he knows better than to comment on her feelings.
A few more weeks go by and North sees the blonde girl more and more often. The Man is always warm and attentive when his companion is around and North wonders when she began to miss his gaze. Wonders when she had started hoping for him to approach her for a casual conversation, to lean up on her clean counter, to draw in closer. Her attraction is obvious by this point and only growing worse every week, especially as she witnesses the sweetness of his actions with the blonde. He is kind and courteous with her and always holds the door with a chivalric deference.
North had never in her life wished for something like that, those empty gestures men used to win women over. She was a fully-capable adult, she could open her own doors, thank you very much. But she realizes the gallantry does not seem empty on his part and she wonders how it would feel to experience that.
She knows she’s fallen much too deeply into her one-sided infatuation, knows nothing will come of it, not when he is so content with his beautiful, bright blonde with her easy smiles and loving gestures. North knows she is angry, abrasive, more prone to t-shirts and jeans than the designer dresses the blonde is always sporting. North knows she is a downgrade. But it doesn’t stop her staring.
February 7th rolls around before long and, though North knows she shouldn’t be looking forward to his visit so much, she still finds herself glancing up quickly with every chime of the bell. Every one is a disappointment but none so much as the arrival of the blonde girl, her self-imposed rival who beats her in every way without even trying. North tries her hardest not to let her face slip into its customary scowl as the woman reaches the till.
Hello!” she says, so bright and cheerful that it makes North want to wring her little neck. “Can I get a large peppermint chai latte and a large cinnamon cold brew with cream, no sugar, to go, please?”
North furrows her brow, realizing what this means. He won’t be here today. He’s sent his girlfriend out to get their drinks. He doesn’t even want to sit around at his usual table, tapping his foot to the music. Her chest feels tight as her fingers automatically ring up the order.
“Your boyfriend not joining you today?” she says before she can stop herself. She holds her breath as she realize what she’s done but the other girl only laughs.
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend. Brother-in-law, actually! My husband and I only just moved back to the city and Niles has been helping me job hunt during the day while Connor is at work.” She gives a bright, sunny smile and North does not know what to feel.
“Oh. Sorry, I just assumed…” She stutters over her words, feeling a blush rise over her cheeks.
The blonde gives another smile, not an ounce of judgment in her features. “Oh, it’s quite alright, Miss! I think it’s wonderful that you keep track of your regulars like that!”
North can only give a stiff nod, for once hoping that someone comes in through the door so she can end this awkward conversation. Or even better, for Simon to finish up the girl’s drinks so she can go.
North thanks every deity she can remember when the bell chimes like an answer to her prayers. But she only freezes up even more when she sees Him walk through the door, for once not immaculately put together. In fact, he’s panting as if he’d run here and his normally perfectly-combed hair is windswept and dotted with snowflakes. He wears his normal black attire but his coat is unbuttoned and he has his gloves in his hands instead of on them. As the door closes behind him, he seems to realize just what a show his entrance has been and his cheeks begin to fill with color.
The blonde girl reacts first. “Niles! What are you doing here? I thought we weren’t meeting up til 11:30?”
The man, Niles, clasps his hands behind his back as he assumes that perfectly straight posture that is his standard. “Connor mentioned to me that you were heading out for coffee.” His voice is stiff and, if North had to guess, nervous. A strange emotion to hear in his usually-confident tone.
“Well, I was going to surprise you with your favorite drink. I thought it might let us get our day going a little bit quicker if I just picked them up on my way over.”
The big man seems to sink into himself, shoulders slouching and gaze focused on the floor. “Yes, I see. That’s very… thoughtful of you, Chloe.” He says nothing more and the silence is honestly quite awkward. His eyes flicker up to North’s and the apology in his gaze is writ clear. Was he…? Did he…?
Chloe seems to sense the tension, too. She stands at the counter, shifting her weight nervously and glancing back and forth between them both.
A sudden clearing of the the throat behind her makes North jump and she turns to see Simon, two freshly-made drink held in hand. She quickly steps out of the way and he puts them on the counter in front of Chloe who takes them with a nervous chuckle. “Ah, thank you,” she says.
He nods, seemingly unperturbed by the weird atmosphere. “You’re very welcome!” Then he turns back to North. “I’ve got the counter for a bit if you wanna step out for a break. We’re not busy right now.” His words are casual and mundane but the glance he gives her makes it clear just what his intentions are.
Chloe, likewise, seems to be in cahoots with him as she grins, bright and happy, and presents Niles with his drink. “I’ll meet you back at the house in a bit, okay? Enjoy your drink!” And then she sidles past him and out the door before he can reply.
Simon is making little shooing motions toward her now even as she glares daggers at him. But she removes her apron anyway, hanging it on the hook by the kitchen entrance, and steps out from behind the counter. She knows this is some spectacularly bad timing on her part but… Well, when have circumstances ever been in her favor? It's now or never. She walks over to where Niles is still standing frozen, cup of cold coffee in hand. His eyes had followed her the entire way and he looks more and more nervous the closer she draws. She jerks her thumb back towards the corner table and raises an eyebrow. “You wanna… talk for a minute?”
The man’s cheeks are still a vibrant red but he manages to lose some of that deer-in-headlights expression. He gives a shaky nod and together they walk over and sit down.
Niles is fidgeting with his drink, letting his fingers glide through the condensation. North wouldn’t say she was mesmerized but… okay, no, she could watch those hands all day. But… she has even more important things to do than this and so, without further ado, she opens her mouth. “Would you like to go out sometime?”
There. She said it. Blunt, to the point. She knows her face is even brighter than his now.
For his part, Niles looks absolutely startled. “...Out?”
She nods. It's too late to back out of this now. “Yeah. Out. Like a… date.”
She watches as his face shifts rapidly through expressions of surprise and awe and terror before settling on a blinding, radiant joy. She has never seen something more beautiful than his face now, all bright smiles and blinding teeth and eyes crinkled in happiness. She wants him to look at her like this forever. “It would be my honor and privilege, Miss,” he states, his overt formality making her laugh.
“I have a name you know. It’s—”
He interrupts. “North. Yes. It is on your name tag.”
She blushes. “Oh. Yeah, of course.”
He glances over shyly. “And mine is—”
“Niles. Yeah. Chloe mentioned.”
“Of course.”
They sit there for a few more moments of silence, each settling in to this new reality of their lives. Eventually, he gives up on fidgeting with his drink. He dries his hands on a napkin before reaching out across the table, hand palm up. She meets him halfway, clasping it with her own, and the two take a moment to savor this simple connection. After a minute, Niles speaks up. “We both have business to attend to, I am aware. But… would you be free later on tonight? I know of a lovely restaurant uptown where we might go for dinner. If… you are amenable.”
She stares at him across the table, taking in his features. He is of course still tall and broad but she can read the softness in him now, hiding under that icy facade. Where before his eyes were cold and distant, now they shine with fondness and she marvels that it is for her . He still wears his monochromes and she still thinks he might look good in blue. Not much had changed between them except for their truths.
She smiles back at him. “I’ll see you at seven.”