Chapter Text
Tuesday, 6th of the Harpstring Moon
Lysithea
How hard could it be?
It was just a tea room. The manager had shown her the basics when she’d first been hired. She’d been given a full tour of the quaint little café, had practiced her coffee making skills at home, and had given herself a full pep talk in the mirror before heading out in the morning.
So why was she still so nervous upon opening up the shop alone? Why did her fingers tremble as she unlocked the front doors; why did the silence of the empty shop as she opened up all the blinds perturb her so?
For Lysithea’s first shift at The Albinean Berry, a little café on the outskirts of the city of Garreg Mach, she would be alone.
The tea room was quaint, independently-owned, and never seemed to attract too much attention. Lysithea had imagined it to be perfect for her first job. She had been very surprised, however, when its owner had sprung the news on her that she would be expected to take her first shift on her own.
"I'm having an operation on Tuesday, you see, and with my daughter on vacation, no one was available to cover my shift!" Ms. Casagranda had told Lysithea as she'd been hired.
Lysithea had been startled into silence. "I'm… so sorry to hear that," she'd stuttered at last.
"Oh, it's only a mole removal, dear. Don’t you worry! But you'd be really doing me a favour by taking the shift."
How could Lysithea be expected to decline? Her only concern was how unprepared she was.
"Tuesdays are always slow, it’s no need for concern. It's the best day to start on!" And Ms. Casagranda had winked.
Now, Lysithea wasn't so sure. She busied herself around The Albinean Berry in the hopes of distracting herself. She pulled the trays of goods baked fresh this morning out from under the counters and displayed them neatly atop the counter, placing their glass domes over them to keep them at their best. After that, she started up the coffee machines, gave the tables one last quick clean, and straightened out the pretty pink apron she wore over her dress.
Glancing at the clock hanging up over the menu on the wall, she found the time to be dead-on 8am.
Great… Lysithea sighed, tossed her hair over her shoulders, and walked over to the door. Determination coursing throughout her made her ball her hands into fists — Lysithea, c'mon, you can do this! — and she reached up to turn the little sign in the window around. Now, anybody walking past the shop would be able to read the adorable cursive lettering:
Welcome!
We are:
Open!
In a way, she had anticipated customers to flock in at once, crowding the counter, babbling at her for their drinks, squabbling over the tables and sofas for somewhere to sit. So it was a relief when the passersby continued to hustle past the window, not even glancing over at the little tea room in their haste.
After a few minutes of nothing, Lysithea relaxed a little. She headed behind the counter, found the leather-seated stool, and hopped up onto it. Perhaps she would make herself a hot chocolate — there were plenty of mini-marshmallows in that little mason jar to her side. Or perhaps she could sneak a slice of the cherry, chocolate, and almond brownie? She could place a couple of coins into the register to make up for it, and Ms. Casagranda would never know, surely…?
Lysithea slipped a piece out from under its glass dome onto a small circular plate. Behind the counter was a small assortment of cutlery to choose from; she picked out a dainty three-pronged fork and sank its fangs into the soft gooeyness of the brownie. Her mouth watered at the rich scent of the chocolate, and she lifted the little chunk up towards her lips—
The door’s bell rang out into the shop with raucous chimes, almost causing her to drop the plate. Her heart set to pounding, and she dashed about behind the counter in an attempt to hide her thievery.
A young man approached the counter, fixing her with a glare through fantastic cinnabar-hued eyes. Lysithea cleared her throat, placing a paper napkin delicately atop her brownie, and straightened out her apron. “W-welcome to The Albinean Berry!” she said in her best attempt to sound cheery. “What can I get for you?”
The man raised an eyebrow, looking her up and down almost suspiciously. “You’re new,” he simply said.
Lysithea bristled at once. How frightfully rude of him! No greeting, no welcome — not even telling her his order! She made sure to display her indignation clearly upon her face. “What an astute observation!” she huffed.
He cocked his head at her. “Is it?”
She narrowly restrained herself from stomping her foot. “Congratulations for noticing. This is my first day. But I hardly see how that’s relevant!”
“Woah.” He raised both hands in a surrender, his eyes widening. “I didn’t mean to offend ya, Miss. Really.”
The more Lysithea looked into those eyes — big, circular eyes with a hue so startlingly red — the more she realised they were quite pretty. They were set deep into a round face, which was circled by a crown of loose, chocolatey brown curls. There was a slight dimple in his chin, and a thin pink scar slashed into his right eyebrow and forehead. A unique face, she noted. A nice one.
But now was not the time to be analysing the man. Now, Lysithea had to serve him.
“What can I get for you?” she sighed.
“Um,” and he began fumbling in the pocket of slim-fitting beige chinos, “can I get a pot of Almyran Pine Needles?”
“Almyran Pine Needles,” Lysithea repeated. She nodded and turned around, to where jars of tea leaves were lined up on the wall behind her. “Sure. That’ll be… uhh…” Darn. Where was the prices list when she needed it!? She felt her cheeks grow hot as she scoured the shelves.
“Here ya go, don’t worry.”
She turned around sharply, to where he held out a hand filled with gold coins. Lysithea narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.
“I’m, uh… kinda a regular,” he said with a shrug. “I get the Almyran Pine Needles every day.” He poked his hand at her once again.
Lysithea pressed her lips together, swallowing her pride. How utterly embarrassing. “Thank you,” she said, taking the coins from his hand. His palm was clammy.
“No prob. First days are always pretty weird, so don’t worry about it too much.” He gave her a wobbly smile through full lips, nodding his head awkwardly.
She held back from rolling her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was stiff. “Thank you for the advice. Take a seat.”
He cleared his throat and turned, making his way through the room.
Lysithea was surprised she didn’t emit steam as she put his coins in the register. First, this guy pointed out how new she was, then he did her job for her, and after all of that, he still had the audacity to patronise her? A regular, she thought bitterly to herself. Getting the Almyran Pine Needles every time. Psh.
As he walked away, however, Lysithea noted a laptop bag slung over one of his shoulders. Oh no, she thought suddenly. Laptops in cafes could only mean one thing. He’s here to work. He’s here to stay.
She almost buried her head in her hands. This man, whom she’d almost just snapped at, would be staying there until he finished his tea. They were alone in the cafe together. And, as he took a seat next to the window, retrieving a laptop from his bag whilst accidentally locking eyes with her, he would be sitting facing her the entire time.
Great.
Lysithea busied herself with making the rest of his Goddess-forsaken tea.
Once she had clumsily placed the teapot, cup, and saucer onto a tray, she picked it up and walked steadily through the shop with it, meeting his eyes as he looked cautiously up at her.
“Here you go,” she said, setting everything down upon the free space next to his laptop.
“Thanks a lot.” He winced slightly as she sloshed a splash of tea onto the table.
“I’ll… let you pour it yourself,” she said, her cheeks heating in embarrassment.
“Sounds good.” The man pulled the teapot and cup towards him. “Say, uh, is this gonna be a full-time job for ya?”
Lysithea cocked her head at him, narrowing her eyes slightly. What a strange question for a stranger to be asking her. She pulled the empty tray in close to her body, holding it tight.
“Yes,” she said cautiously. “I need to work full-time to afford the apartment I’m renting. Why?”
His eyes widened slightly as she spoke, giving him the air of a curious child. Her heart fluttered slightly in her chest as he did so, and she cursed herself inwardly for finding his motion the slightest bit cute. “Ah, no reason. Just wonderin’ if I’d see ya more often, that’s all.”
“Yes, unfortunately so,” she sighed, watching him chuckle.
“Sorry, I’ll stop buggin’ ya, Miss…” He peered confusedly at the name tag pinned to her apron. “Miss… Lih-sih-they-yuh? Wha…?”
Heat flushed through her at once, burning her cheeks and making her fingers tighten even more on the tray she held. Was she embarrassed? Did she find it funny? Did she find him cute? She didn’t know — she didn’t want to know! “It’s Lysithea!” she hissed.
“Oh, man!” He laughed loudly, the sound clear and musical. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Lysithea, got it!” He dissolved into poorly-masked chuckles. “That’s okay, you can just call me Sigh-reel.”
She felt her lips twitch in a smile. “Sigh-reel? What’s that supposed to be?”
“Cyril,” he said, cocking his head and smiling into her eyes. “Nice to meet ya.”
Cyril. A handsome name. Boyish and cute, suiting him perfectly.
Lysithea shook her head. What was she thinking? She’d only just met him! Instead, she nodded and pressed the tray closer to her chest. “I suppose it’s nice to meet you too, Cyril. Enjoy your Pine Needles.”
“Thanks,” he said back, holding up the teacup to her as if to toast. “I’ll try.”
She turned, offering him one last bashful smile, and headed back towards the counter. I’ll try, he’d said, in that slightly deep, winsome voice of his.
Wait…
He’d try to enjoy her tea…? What was that supposed to mean!?