Chapter Text
The smell of roasted coffee beans flooded Hua Cheng’s senses as he stepped into the little hole in a wall shop. It had a faded and slightly crooked sign above the door that dubbed the place “Puqi Grind”, whatever the hell “Puqi” was. He took in the surroundings. It was a quaint little place; little wooden tables and mismatched chairs were set out and towards the back was the counter that had a register and a display case of a few pastries and cookies. There were only a handful of patrons in the shop, a woman with a large sunhat sat near a window sipping from a white mug, her eyes focused on the gardening book in her hands, a young college aged kid with curly hair sat at another table, his gaze looking over a martial arts manga.
Hua Cheng stepped up to the counter, looking over the menu. It didn’t have much, but it had a lot of flavors or different milks to add, just to get some variety. He stood there for a minute before looking around again, there was no one running this shop.
“A-Lian, you have a customer!” The woman sitting by the window calls out, without even glancing up from her book.
A loud crash is heard from the back and Hua Cheng jumps a bit as a young man suddenly pops his head out from the door leading to the back kitchen. His hair is pulled into a bun that is messy, but his eyes and smile are kind.
“I am so sorry, sir. I didn’t hear the bell over the door!” He claims as he stands behind the register, attention fully on Hua Cheng.
Hua Cheng wasn’t sure he heard the bell, so he looked at the door, to see a broken handle that probably held something before.
“Oh right… meant to fix that… sorry. Uh, what can I get you?”
Hua Cheng is positively floored by how pretty this man is when he smiles. Even though he has tired bags under his eyes, they still show kindness and strength, and his smile is inviting and warm.
Hua Cheng forgets he has to order until the man clears his throat a little, “Oh. Yes. Coffee. Could I get your latte with soy milk and some cinnamon?”
The man nods, his bun bobbing on top of his head at the motion, “A cinnamon soy latte, absolutely. Anything else?”
Hua Cheng has to force his gaze elsewhere as he peruses the pastries. They are a little lopsided or warped, but they look cute, in a weird way. Was calling pastries cute normal? Could pastries be cute? The barista was cute, but he wasn’t a pastry.
“The chocolate turnover, please,” Hua Cheng looked over at the barista as he tapped something into his computer.
“Perfect! They are a new menu item, so hopefully they gain more attention so we can keep them. The almond ones didn’t do well, so we had to change what we sold,” the barista rambled as he tapped away, “Did you want that turnover heated?”
“Please.”
“Of course! And can I get a name for the order?” the blinding smile was back.
“San Lang,” it was out before Hua Cheng could stop it. Why did he give his alias? No one here cared how much money he had.
“Sure thing, San Lang. I’ll have your food ready in a few minutes, feel free to grab a table while you wait.”
Hua Cheng nodded as he went to sit down after he paid. His eyes tracked every movement of the barista as he gracefully wound his way through the back counter to make his coffee and heat his pastry. He was tall, but still shorter than Hua Cheng, but he had a slim waist that was accented by the apron tied over his white sweater and khaki pants. He had a soft, cozy look to him, with his messy bun and the few strands of long brown hair that fell out of it.
After a few minutes, the barista came up to the counter and called, “San Lang! Your chocolate turnover and cinnamon soy latte are ready!”
Hua Cheng stood, grabbed his coffee and sent a smile to the barista as he exited.
The coffee was not anything exciting, mediocre compared to where Hua Cheng normally got his coffee, and the turnover was slightly burnt on one edge, but it was the best breakfast he had had in a while. His Monday morning was shaping up to be pretty decent.