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Grimmjow hates coffee. Why the fuck does he keep coming here? The weather outside is shitty and he had to walk through it to make it to this little hole in the wall cafe-bakery thing. Whatever the fuck it is, the whole place smells like coffee beans and it’s all he can smell when he steps inside the door and breathes in.
“Hey Grimmy!” The lady behind the counter perks up when she sees him, a brilliant smile lighting up her features.
Oh yeah. Her. Nelliel, who had been leaning on the counter looking at her phone. Not very professional but the place wasn’t busy so it was understandable. He's given up on telling her that's not his name, she never listens to him.
Grimmjow can feel an answering smile of his own that he quickly schools into something acceptably aloof. He’s too old to be grinning like some dopey fool with a school yard crush. He doubts she’d ever notice anyway, she doesn’t seem to pay much mind to his floundering.
“What’s good today?” He asks, nodding toward the display case crammed full of goodies. Some of it looks appetising, most of it not. The eccentric woman that owns this establishment loves throwing together whatever flavours she likes and sells them as palatable dishes. One time he tried the anchovy cheesecake, just for shits and gigs. It was surprisingly okay, but the seaweed and eggplant tart? Not so much.
“You know the chocolate sponge is always nice,” she points at it behind the glass. “But you don’t like really sweet things, do you?”
‘I like you’ was on the tip of his tongue and Grimmjow sighs. Cheesy. Disgustingly cheesy. He can’t help but get a little tongue-tied when she’s involved.
Nelliel misreads his sigh and straightens up, a determined look on her face.
“Don’t be like that. I helped make it!”
“Okay, fine. I’ll get a piece.” He waves a hand, making his disinterest known as he concedes. “What if I get two and you can join me?”
He always asks her out like this, and she always giggles and says no.
Today is different, when she tells him her shift is almost over and they can leave together. His thought process pretty much shuts down after that. He hands over his money on automatic and is directed to sit nearby. He doesn’t really register when he gets his cake, only knows that he gets his coffee because it’s hot in his hand and scalds his tongue when he sips on it. He hates coffee and doesn’t like sweet things, but she looks so happy at the prospect of joining him.