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Wylan stops by way more often than he’d like to admit honestly.
To be fair, he really did come around at first because he liked the coffee—granted, it was also the closest coffee shop to uni so it was convenient, but the coffee was actually good so it definitely started because he actually did like the coffee. Especially when the cold weather started picking at the edges of Ketterdam. But then this thing happened. And now he also stops after school, which he never did before.
Jesper is a flirt, which is most of the problem, but Wylan can’t help himself.
So Wylan comes into the coffee shop with his bag slung over his shoulder, cheeks flushed from the cold biting of winter creeping in and curls falling over his forehead, and he tightens his jacket around himself with his hands stuffed into his pockets before he approaches the counter.
It’s soft and quiet around, a few other people scattered around the shop with their coffees and hot chocolates and pastries, and Wylan almost wishes that someone would have been in front of him. It would have given him enough time to brace himself because he can see Jesper behind the counter, eyeing the pastry display like if someone doesn’t stop him, he might actually eat all of them. Now Wylan can feel his heart fluttering around in his stomach—which is probably what people called ‘butterflies’ but he would just call it anxiousness. Nerves. Jesper made him so nervous and fluttery.
Wylan almost clears his throat, but doesn’t want to seem rude, so instead he ends up asking quietly, “Hot chocolate please?” It’s at times like this when Wylan has literally no idea what he’s going to do when the weather gets warmer because at least he has the excuse of winter to stop after school right now. What’s he going to do after? Ask for an iced coffee? He doesn’t drink more than one cup a day. What a disaster.
Jesper hums in acknowledgment and looks at Wylan in the soft gray, and Wylan can see the way his lips turn up slightly at the corners—like he’s entirely aware of what Wylan is doing, but at least the flush from the cold walk hasn’t entirely gone away so Wylan can hide the creeping blush behind that.
“Whipped cream?” Jesper raises a brow, mouth quirked a little more, and Wylan can tell Jesper wants to grin. And Wylan lets out a huff of a breath because there’s no way—no way in hell—someone can be so cute and so effortless and so warm, yet so infuriating. Wylan never gets whipped cream.
“No thank you.”
“Thought maybe one of these days, I could convince you to mix it up a little. Live a little.”
“By putting whipped cream on my hot chocolate?”
“Or by trying something else, if you’re feeling adventurous.”
It almost sounds like an invitation, and Wylan fidgets so awkwardly that its borderline painful.
Jesper looks like he wants to laugh, but also like he wants to spare Wylan (which he most definitely is not) so he finishes making his hot chocolate leisurely and he puts the cup on the saucer with a napkin in between before he sits it down on the counter.
And now Wylan—poor, soft Wylan who was definitely not made to withstand Jesper’s sly flirting—is flustered and his cheeks are so warm but the winter flush is long gone so now it’s just him and he barely mutters his thank you before he scurries over to a corner by the window. He sits his things down on the table and then refuses to look at anything but his music sheets.
Until he realizes a little bit later that there’s this black ink on the napkin.
Stay around until I finish?
He looks up and finds Jesper playing around with the coffee beans, bored and restless, but like he can feel Wylan’s eyes on him, he looks up in his direction. When Jesper’s gaze focuses on Wylan specifically, Wylan feels his cheeks flush again. He’s entirely in the deep end, but he just nods and Jesper’s entire face might actually split in two with the size of his grin.