Chapter Text
Three years ago:
I bit my lip, checking my watch and looking back up to the front of the line. This was going to take forever. I looked around the small coffee shop, bouncing on the balls of my feet. Adjusting my scarf, I looked back at the menu. This was the point when I had enough time to re decide on my order. Maybe just skip the tea for today. Could I? No. There was no way I would skip the tea. I checked my watch again, poking my head out to look at the length of the line in front of me.
"Hey." I heard a voice whisper beside me. I looked up, seeing a tall man in jogging clothes standing in line for the second register. He smiled at me, bright blue eyes shining. "You can cut in here if you want." He said, pointing in front of him. I looked at him, hesitant. "You look like you're in a hurry." He said kindly, running a hand through messy blonde hair. I took a second look at him; he was actually pretty cute. His eyes twinkled when he smiled, and he smiled a lot. On a normal day I would have turned him down out of politeness, but I was in a bit of a rush. I thanked him, side-stepping in front of him in the line.
Considering it was New York, I half expected him to start trying to grope me, but he did nothing. "I totally get it." He said, trying to step to the side and face me. He was looking at me with an actual interest, unlike the nonchalant men I was used to at work. "What do you usually get?" He asked, obviously trying to start conversation. On a regular basis, his prying would annoy me, but he seemed more friendly than creepy--plus there was a long wait.
"Just--uhm--" I cleared my throat, pressing my lips together. "Just a black tea. One sugar, no cream." He looked relieved, like he understood.
"Ah, good. Keeping it simple. I never really know what to get. I'm a little new to these shops." I knit my brow, looking up at the all-too familiar sign. He noticed my confusion, chuckling. "Let's just say I've been kinda living under a rock." I grinned, laughing. Who was this guy?
An awkward silence proceeded, and I stepped forward in the line. "So what puts you out this early in the morning?" I asked, trying to fill the gap of speech. He looked up at me through his lashes, and I almost flinched. I was a bit taken back by his abrupt handsomeness, but quickly recovered.
"I go out running every morning, that gets me up pretty early." He explained. We were next up in line, and I got out my wallet. "Hey." He said, covering my hand and reaching into his back pocket. "No need. Let me buy you your drink." He said. I bit my lip, smiling at him. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what the other end of the bargain was, considering he was a stranger, but hey. He was cute. He ordered my drink along with a coffee, and I looked at him. He was.... buff. I went to the gym a few times a week, and he was on a scale that I rarely even saw there.
"Thank you." I said, taking the cup from him after we stepped out of line.
"Yeah. Maybe you could, eh..." He looked nervous, his hands fidgeting with the cup placed in them. "Help me out with all the new stuff here." He said, his voice verging on anxious as he looked hopefully back up at me.
I bit my lip, half of my brain screaming no. "I mean, sure. I'm here almost every day in the morning." I smiled at him, running a hand through my hair. He nodded, taking a step back.
"I'll let you go. Hope I didn't scare you away." He said, still fiddling nervously with his coffee cup. He was cute. He was okay. I walked backwards, heading towards the door and giving a small wave.
The next morning was the same. I walked in and saw him sitting at a table by the counter. This morning I had just come back from the gym, wearing a sports bra and track shorts. It was hot in August, so I'd decided against my workout tank and just went. I usually went to the gym early, and then jogged down to the coffee shop. I didn't have work today, so I figured if the 'mystery man' was here, I would have plenty.
He looked up when I walked in, and I immediately got into line, not wasting any time. He smiled when he saw me, and I gave a short shy wave. I got my tea, not waiting for him to ask me before sitting with him at the table. He looked me up and down, biting his bottom lip, and I straightened. I was a little self-concious, but he laughed, leaning onto the table.
"You just come from a run, too?" He asked. I nodded, taking a sip from my tea.
"So, I'm here to teach you about the 21st century?" I asked, smirking at him. He nodded, grabbing a smartphone from his bag. "What'd you live in Montana? They still ride horses there?" I asked, laughing nervously at my own bad joke. He seemed to get it, though, and laughed.
"Nah, I just had a... dilemna..." He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. He seemed to be avoiding the topic, but I let it go.
"So." He said, pulling out a small notepad. "Nirvana. What's that?" I laughed, leaning back in my chair and setting my tea on the table.
"90s music." I said, laughing. He looked confused. "1990s." I said, giving him a funny look. "If you want good music, we can listen to the 7os sometime." I said. He raised his eyebrows, full attention on me. "Nirvana was a grunge band. They were a big deal because they were one of the first punk bands, and their songs were kinda dark and emotional. They spoke to a lot of teens. Their lead singer, Kurt Cobain committed suicide in 1993, which ended the group." I myself was a music junkie, and I knew pretty much everything about everything from the 1900s music. Anything new, though, I knew nothing. He looked at me, smiling slightly. He looked like he was about to say something, but then looked back at his notepad.
"Ray Charles." He read, looking up at me. I grinned, licking my teeth.
"Ray Charles was a legend." I said, confused as to why he didn't know popular music from back to the 70s. I didn't ask. "He was blind, for starters. He sang and played piano and wrote amazing songs, all without ever physically seeing. Not only was he handi-capped, but his music was fantastic. He released hit after hit, and..." I broke off, realizing he was staring at me. "What?" I asked, leaning away.
He scratched his jaw, smirking. "You seem to be really into this." He said, placing an elbow on the table. I looked away, suddenly shy, and grabbed a sweater from my bag. It was too hot out to wear it, but I draped it across my lap, feeling too naked.
"If you want to talk music, I'll talk music all day long." I said, perching my chin on my palm.
He continued to stare at me, smiling with every part of his face but his lips. After a moment he spoke, crossing his arms and checking his watch. "What's your name?" He asked, picking his bag up from under his chair.
I licked my lips, looking up at him. I never really realized how tall he was until now. "Giselle. Founder." I said, stuttering awkwardly. He pulled a page out of his miniature notepad, taking pen and scribbling on it.
"Well, it was lovely meeting you, Giselle." He smirked, handing me the piece of paper with ten numbers neatly drawn on it. "Same time tomorrow?" He joked, shouldering a knapsack. I picked my tea up from the table, sipping from it again. "We should talk again soon, though. Really." He said, pointing at the piece of paper perched wedged two of my fingers. "My name's Steve Rogers."
And that's how it went. Almost every day for two whole years.