Chapter Text
“Your dad finally cut you off, huh?” The bell sings its final note before the door thumps close behind you. Xavier’s mouth quirks up in a lopsided smile when his eyes meet yours. “It was those three new iPhones your ordered wasn’t it? He could justify one, but three?” Xavier huffs a dry chuckle, leaning forward on the counter to meet your gaze.
“Did you want a coffee or did you just come here to make jokes?”
Truthfully, you came to make sure he was doing okay at his assignment at the Weathervane for outreach day. Not that you would ever admit it though.
“I mostly came here to shoot the shit with you, but I’ll take a latte if you’re offering.” You pause for a second, head tilting. “You know how to make a latte right?”
“Screw you.” The words are said jovially with a hearty laugh as he retreats to the espresso machine. “Hot or iced?”
“Iced please.”
“Good, because I actually don’t know how to use the steamer on this thing.” You laugh.
“What have you been telling people when they order, like, macchiatos or something.”
He gives you the cheekiest smile. “I tell them the machine’s broken, and all we have is drip or iced.” You have to cover your mouth to muffle the sound of your giggles.
“And none of the other employees have thought to correct this behavior?” He shrugs, pouring ice into a mason jar.
“I’m the only one here.”
That’s a little fucked. It’s one thing to have to work all day with your assaulter, and an entirely other thing to be ostracized.
Your mouth opens, the words: ‘Do you have another apron?’ On the tip of your tongue. Because screw these people, the mayor’s office and their paper can get fucked, you’re not leaving him here alone.
“Do you want the Horchata milk?”
The words slide down your throat until they’re swallowed whole.
“What?” Now it’s his turn to look confused.
“Are you off of dairy? I think we have oat milk too but, it’s a little old—"
“No, they have horchata milk here?”
“You didn’t know?” You shake your head. “Do you want to try it?” You nod.
You take a tentative sip. Eyebrows shooting up as you flash you friend a knowing look. He grins back.
“It’s good right?” It’s the best thing you’ve ever had. Even if the whole milk is going to upset your stomach later. While you’re contemplating about how this has been here the entire time, the mason jar is presented to you—cinnamon and sugar dusted on top, and a straw lovingly placed in the corner.
“Wow.” You meet his proud gaze. “Coffee made by the Xavier Thorpe, I feel like I should take a picture to commemorate the moment or something.”
Maybe it’s enough to just stay with him like this.
You take a sip of your latte, swallowing hard.
“Hey Xavier, how much espresso did you put in this?” He’s cleaning up behind the counter.
“I don’t know like eight shots…that’s normal right?”
You know what, maybe Xavier Thorpe is perfectly capable of exacting his own revenge.
“Yup, tastes great.” Fingers lace around the jar, maybe you can dilute this when he’s not looking. “So do you give free samples to everyone, or am I a special case?”
“Only for you.”