Chapter Text
The doorbell jingles. Markus looks up from the pastry display case, greeting the man entering with a smile. He looks around the shop, eyebrows raised inquisitively as he takes in the space, until his gaze lands on Markus. His steps stutter and he nearly trips over himself, pale complexion immediately tinting pink in embarrassment. Markus' smile turns a little soft as they hold eye contact for a few seconds, taking in the man's deep brown eyes.
The moment breaks when the customer reaches the counter.
"What can I get you?"
"Hey," the man says with a nervous smile. "Could I have, uh..." he pauses to dig his phone out of his pocket. It's an honest-to-god flip phone. He squints at the tiny screen, craning his neck down to read it better. The blue light shines right into his face. Markus watches, enthralled, until his customer looks up again with an abashed grin. "Playing gopher for my coworkers," he says under his breath, "Can I have two black coffees, a flat white, and a caramel latte, please?"
"Coming right up," Markus says in his most charming voice, letting his smile stretch into something genuine. He prepares the coffees, then picks up a black sharpie and one of the paper cups. "Can I have a name?"
"Oh," Connor says, fumbling with the phone he just snapped closed, trying to flip it open again, "Do you want one for each order--?"
"Just yours is fine." Markus never asks for names unless there's a long line.
The shop is empty save for...
"Connor."
"Connor," Markus repeats, testing out the name on his tongue as he jots it down. After a moment of thought, he adds a bold little smiley face, too. He slides over the four cups, securely placed in a paper cup holder, and for a few heartbeats, they are both looking at the other.
Connor's eyes flicker away as he clears his throat. "How much'll that be?"
"Uh--" he inputs the prices into the cash register, "$9.87, please."
Connor puts down three five dollar bills, picking up the cup holder. He moves to leave, hesitates...
Markus waits for him to ask for his number, holding his breath in anticipation.
Connor opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. "Have a nice day," he says.
Markus slumps as the doorbell jingles in melancholy.