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The smell of freshly roasted coffee is like a warm, comfy blanket as it wraps itself around her. Arya breathes it in deep, feeling more awake already.
The quiet hustle and bustle of the morning rush at Hot Pie’s goes on around her as she waits in the queue. Orders are placed and names are called, while the milk frother gurgles over another new acoustic cover of Wicked Game.
‘How is everyone not sick of this song already?,’ she asks the well dressed yet bleary eyed woman in front of her, ‘There’s been like a million covers of it.’
‘I like this song.’ the woman yawns, ‘I don't mind all the covers.’
Wicked Game’s biggest fan turns back around, and Arya rolls her eyes and checks the time. Only fifteen minutes to get her morning skinny cap and walk the block to work. Arya knows she’s cutting it fine. But damned if she’ll face another day with the snobs at Jaqen’s House of Black & White decaffeinated. She has Sansa to thank for getting her the job at the fancy-pants clothing store, but the other sales assistant; a sour faced waif of a thing, has been pushing her buttons since day one. Arya smiles to herself as she imagines throwing her coffee at the skinny fashionista.
‘What can I get you?’
Pulled from her daydream, Arya looks up to find the the most amazing blue eyes looking down at her from behind the counter. Taking in everything else that comes with the eyes, she decides the gods have either blessed this new barista or sired him.
Damn. A tall drink of water indeed. He has to be at least 6 foot 4, with shaggy coal black hair that she has the sudden urge to run her fingers through. Arya had just started to take in the impressive breadth of the shoulders and arms filling out his black Hot Pie’s t-shirt when he clears his throat drawing her attention back to those damned eyes.
Hot Coffee Guy raises a brow waiting for her answer, looking a little embarrassed if somewhat amused and Arya looks around trying to remember where she is so she can figure out what he’d asked her.
‘Oh. Right. Sorry, um.’ What. The. Fuck. Arya. ‘Coffee, please.’
He chuckles. The tall, broad shouldered drink of water actually laughs at her. The bastard.
‘What kind of coffee?’ he leans in and asks her, quiet enough not to let anyone else hear what a complete moron she is. This is so not her. She’s seen hot guys before, plenty of them, and none have ever left her stupefied.
I want to die. Clearly, it was caffeine deficiency. Pull yourself together.
She straightens up and holds her chin high.
‘A large skinny cappuccino, please. One sugar.’
‘Large skinny cap, one sugar. Right. Take away?’
‘Yes. Take away, please.’ Run away. She thinks, feeling quite warm in her face. Oh, God, am I blushing?
‘What name?’ he asks with paper cup and Sharpie in hand, now looking thoroughly entertained.
‘Arya. A-R-Y-A.’
Well done. You know your name. Idiot.
…
‘Arry.’
Arya’s thumb scrolls her phones screen for nothing in particular, just to give her something to look at other than Hot Coffee Guy.
‘Arry.’ he calls out again and she can’t help but look up. He is looking directly at her, grinning smug as you like, holding up her coffee. Walking toward him her mood worsens.
A-r-y-a, how hard is it.
She is about to correct him but the look on his face tells her he knows her name well enough.
Smartass. Two can play at this game.
She looks at Hot Coffee Guy’s name badge.
Gendry
‘Thanks, Gary.’ she slaps on her phoniest smile, the kind usually reserved for customers, and with a tilt of her head plucks the cup from his hand.
‘Anytime.’ His smile, on the other hand, is genuine and thoroughly infuriating as he walks back to the register to serve the next customer.
Arya doesn’t dare look back, just marches on out with a pep in her step that she can’t quite help.
As the glass door swings outward Arya swears she sees Gendry’s reflection still smiling after her as she leaves.
…
The cappuccino wasn’t wasted on the waif’s face in the end, Arya drank down every last drop of the worst coffee she’d ever had in her life.
She could have gone to the Starbucks across the road the next morning instead, but something brought her back to Hot Pie’s.
Routine, she tells herself. Can’t be bothered crossing the street, she reasons.
Plus, there’s always the chance that someone else will make her coffee today. Hopefully someone who can make a decent cup. Looking up Arya notices there are three other staff behind the counter. None quite so tall with eyes so blue and her shoulders droop as an unnerving wave of disappointment washes over her.
But then a scruffy mop of black hair pops up from behind the coffee machine and Gendry sets a carton of milk on the counter. The buzz she gets at the sight of him is beyond ridiculous and she covers it up with a thick coat of nonchalance.
Arya pretends not to notice when he glances at the line and spots her. She recites her order in her head, determined not to make an ass of herself two days in a row. Chances are one of the others would take her order anyway.
But they didn’t.
She gives Gendry her order without missing a beat, making a point to say her name very slowly and very clearly for him this time. And there is that stupid grin again. That grin makes his stupid eyes twinkle and her stupid stomach do back flips.
Oreo, he calls her this time. Pretending he can’t see her when she comes up to stand in front of him, he holds the cup just out of reach.
‘Oh,’ he says, looking down, all chiseled and cheeky, ’there you are. Sorry, didn’t see you down there.’
The nerve of this guy. She takes the proffered cup and attempts a steely glare.
‘Well, we can’t all be as tall as you, Graham,’ she retaliates, ‘hit your head on door frames much?’
...
In the days that follow, she is Arwen and Ariel and he is Gandalf and Gaston.
Getting her morning coffee has become her favourite part of the day, regardless of how terrible he is at making it.
She used to justify the daily cost of her caffeine habit as a reward for putting up with her snotty workmates and snottier customers. But the burnt brown sludge that she continues to choke down isn’t what she’s rewarding herself with these past few days, and as she walks into Hot Pie’s on Friday she’s greeted with another of that tall idiot’s blue eyed and easy smiles.
Get it together, Arya, she tells herself, trying to settle down the butterflies that are turning her stomach upside down as she waits for her order. He’s not flirting with you, he’s just calling your name wrong to piss you off. To her complete frustration, it was having the opposite effect.
With a quick glance up to find him hunched and busy behind the coffee machine, Arya wonders to herself if he has a girlfriend and taps open the facebook tab on her phone. Remembering that she has no idea what his last name is and that she isn’t a stalker she closes out of the app just as quickly.
‘Ari...ana Grande.’ he calls out brightly. Some of the regulars chuckle as Arya gets up, groans and marches up to him. ‘Geddit? ‘Cause you ordered a large.’ the goofball beams, all messy haired and endearing, thrilled with his joke and it’s all she can do not to giggle along with him.
It’s just a game, she reminds herself. It is the dumbest thing ever and she’s mad as hell that she’s enjoying it so much.
‘Haha, George. A barista and a comedian. How do you do it?’ she lets her astounded face turn into a friendly smile so he knows she’s only teasing, takes her cup and turns to leave.
‘Wait, Arya.’
She stops and closes her eyes briefly, because as much as she’s enjoyed this little charade the sound of his voice calling her actual name is something to be savored.
‘Finally got my name right.’ she turns back to face him.
‘Yep.’ he says, and if she were to look up the dictionary definition of sheepish right now Arya’s certain it would be a picture of the gorgeously awkward face looking back at her. ‘You might wanna check if I spelled it properly, though.’ Gendry motions to the coffee in her hand before cupping the back of his neck.
Arya seeing anyone?
This last play on her name, written in black marker around the side of the cup makes the corners of her mouth curl up as she barely contains the joy bubbling up and fizzing inside her.
Play it cool, Arya, she thinks, and the cup she looks at in her hand may as well be a straight flush. Her dad always said she had the best poker face, and this game wasn’t over yet.
‘Actually, I kinda have my eye on someone right now.’ Arya tells him, almost feeling bad when his face drops. Almost.
‘Oh. Yeah. Of course.’ he says quickly, brushing off his move with a no-worries-wave and nod of acceptance. ’Well, can you at least tell me who he is so I can shake his hand or… kick his ass or something,’ he adds, giving a short, self conscious laugh.
And right then and there he’s entirely too cute. And she’s entirely too smitten.
‘Actually, he probably does need his ass kicked, you know.’
‘So why do you like him then?’ He looks jealous and concerned, but it will be all over soon, so she doesn’t feel so bad. Arya gets ready to lay down her winning hand.
‘I have no idea.’ she lies, ‘he’s kind of an idiot, to be honest. Makes terrible coffee. Gets my name wrong all the time.’ she smiles as the penny drops and his face lights up with a knowing grin. ‘You might know him, actually.’
‘Oh, yeah?’
‘Maybe. He’s like, yay tall,’ she holds her hand well above her head then lets it drop to her side, ‘and his name is... umm,’ Arya squints, staring into the distance, turning her hand as if trying to grasp the elusive name from the air, ‘Gary or Henry or…’
‘Gendry?’ he offers.
‘Gendry! That’s it.’ she clicks her fingers and points at him, a shy smile budding on her face as she drops the act and he smiles fondly at her in return.
‘Yeah, I know him. Hits his head on door frames a lot and apparently makes lousy coffee,’ Gendry says, looking overly offended and making her laugh, ‘but uh, he’s a good guy.’
‘So, what are you doing this weekend, Gendry? Wanna grab a coffee?’