Chapter Text
The new coffee shop that had sprung up had been calling you for weeks, and after a hard day of work, it was too tempting to pass by.
Or, it wasn’t quite new. You’d just been too busy bankrupting yourself at the local Starbucks to notice it before.
Garreth’s Good Morning Grounds was the newest coffee shop in the small town. It had taken up the little corner shop on the corner of a street, the one that had been some old boutique that nobody went to. The only surprising thing about that store going under was that it hadn’t happened sooner.
The building had been renovated—it was quite homey now, chocolate bricks around the base and smooth walls the color of milk chocolate. The corners of the building and the entryway were highlighted with a darker brown, as well as the window frames. The sign had the most whimsical writing you’d ever seen, along with a stylized cup of coffee.
The bell rang a happy chine when you shouldered the door open. You barely had to walk two steps before you found the line. It gave you a few moments to look around the cozy little place.
The inside had a similar theme to the outside, all soft shades of brown with accents and shadows. Part of the far-off counter had little bar stools, and the walls and windows were lined with booths. Hanging lights were plentiful, and most tables had a little pot with what looked like a real flower in it. That seemed to be common here, too, with most decorative tables or windows covered in potted plants. You imagined it woukd be a pain to have allergies here.
You stared at the menu, eyes squinted—the line was long, and it was hard to see all the way by the door. But hey—if the line was this long, the coffee must be good, right? You certainly didn’t see any unhappy customers. In fact, they all seemed very appreciative of the—
Oh.
—Of the extremely hot barista with the ruffled, slightly curly hair and the smattering of freckles and those sincere green eyes and those broad shoulders and that easy, carefree smile…
You should shut your mouth. You’re getting weird looks, having it open like that. Your cheeks burn as you duck your head, from more than just embarrassment.
In your defense, he was cute. Like if sunshine was a person. Bright ginger hair like a lion’s mane, curly and unruly. Vibrant green eyes seemed permanently smiling, even before one saw the blinding grin on the man. His sleeves were rolled up as he worked, revealing a farmer’s tan. The amount of sun he must have seen may have been the cause of the freckles that covered every inch of his skin in swaths, like someone had taken to him with a paint brush and just dotted it wherever. He looked like he should be a celebrity, or at least a star in some popular romcom flick—and yet he was here, in a coffee shop, in your small town.
You realized with a jolt that the line in front of you was quickly moving, and you hurried forward. You tore your eyes away from the cute barista—you were here for coffee, not to flirt.
The line disappeared quicker than you would have liked. You’d barely had time to glance over the menu before you were standing before the register and a man who looked very similar to the other barista—if the other barista had a vendetta against working the register.
The barista’s name tag read Leander. You got your first look at the uniforms—for the strained smile he was wearing, he did look quite cozy in the mocha brown turtleneck sweater. The cashier had beige overalls on which his little nametag plaque was attached, his name written in orange with the same scrawl as the sign outside. He cleared his throat, widening his smile a little in a way that seemed more like a cry for help than any genuine positive emotion.
“What can I get for you today?” Leander couldn't have looked less pleased to take your order if he’d been held at gunpoint. You wondered if something had happened, or if he was just always like that.There was a faint tap-tap-tap as his fingers drummed against the side of the register. He stood there expectantly, not too unlike a cornered animal that was just waiting for you to do something unpredictable.
You faltered. You hadn’t decided on anything yet; you didn’t even really know what all they had to offer. To make matters worse, all the thoughts just fell out of your mind, and suddenly you couldn’t even remember what you usually got at cafés. Sweat trickled down your back. “Oh. Um…”
His eyes go blank as you hesitate, as if he can tell you haven’t looked at the menu. You feel as if he’s looking through you, probably at the never-ending line behind you, and debating whether or not to quit his job right here. Pressure settles like a weight on your shoulders, and you quickly scan the menu. It’s got all sorts of concoctions; you count at least twenty different syrups, several different types of coffee beans, and all sorts of milks and creams. They even have a wide variety of teas, including an interesting mixture of coffee and tea. There’s even something called butterbeer, which can come with or without alcohol. The sheer amount of options makes your head hurt.
You randomly pick an option of the board that sounds good. You’ll try something new—not too new, though, you need to decide whether they even have good coffee before you branch out. You just don’t want to think about it anymore. If you come again, you’ll have to peruse the menu before you enter the shop.
The haunted look vanishes from your cashier’s eyes, which is great because it was beginning to unsettle you. He dutifully plugs your drink into the register, reading back your total. He seems as relieved as you are to be getting this interaction over with. “How would you like to pay today? Cash or card?” Leander stares at you vacantly before adding almost sheepishly, “Or gift card?”
“Card is fine, thanks. Normal card,” You add, almost in a jest. He seems to pick up on it, because his ears redden and he mumbles as he tells you that you can tap to pay. You do so, and he hands you the receipt. You almost feel bad for him.
“Your drink will be made shortly. You can wait over there,” Leander explains, pointing to a section of the counter where several other drinks are already waiting. You nod and thank him, making your way over. You hear him call the next guest behind you with an equal amount of enthusiasm as he had for you, which is to say, none.
The cute barista is nowhere in sight when you arrive at the counter, which is probably for the best. You don’t need to make a fool of yourself in front of hot guys. You move to pull your phone out of your pocket to check the time, but you’re suddenly interrupted by a baritone voice that makes you jolt. You look up to see Mr. Sunshine himself, which gives you another mini heart attack on the spot.
“Believe this one’s yours, hon,” The cute barista winked, somehow already at the counter where finished orders would go. You had no idea how he’d made your drink in record time, and you simply stared at the drink he was handing you over the counter, flabbergasted. The stunned silence was becoming more of a common occurrence than you were comfortable with.
“Really? But I just ordered.” Argh. You sounded stupid. And you were just staring! You really needed to get a grip. He was only the cutest guy you’d ever met. He probably thought you were slow, just standing there like that.
“Yep! I work fast, sweetheart,” The barista chirped proudly. His hand was still outstretched with the coffee—that couldn’t be comfortable—but he didn’t seem to mind, thankfully for you.
“O-oh. Neat.” Your brain took another minute to work before you could reach out and take the coffee. You cleared your throat, prepared to do some damage control so you could appear at least semi-competent. “Thank you. I really appreciate—”
“You’re new here, aren’t you?” Garreth interrupted, tilting his head as you took the coffee, eyes briefly appraising you. “Haven’t seen you around before!”
“Uh? I suppose—it’s my first time here,” you explain, a slight flush creeping over your face. What, did this man memorize all his customers? He’d pinpointed you immediately.
The barista perked up at that. “That’s what I thought! Well, I’m glad you visited us today, and I hope you’ll come back! We really do serve the best coffee,” he bragged with a wink. “Made with love! And also tastier things. I invented a bunch of the blends myself!” He seemed proud of that, straightening up from where he’d been draped over the counter between you, puffing out his chest a bit. That… was actually quite impressive, but it gave you a few questions.
“Oh? You invented some of the blends? Are you close with the owner, then?” Either the owner of this store—Garreth, you assumed from the sign—listened well to his employees, or this was a friend of the owner. Most bosses didn’t like initiative unless it cut corners.
“Suppose you could say that! After all, I am the owner. Garreth Weasley, at your service!” Garreth declared, far too cheerily for your rapidly growing horror and embarrassment. You just had to open your mouth.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize—” You begin to apologize, but Garreth is already waving you off with a smile.
“No worries! I don’t exactly have your average ‘business owner’ vibes, do I?” Another wink, this time paired with a hand through his hair, as if he were slicking it back. The motion did absolutely nothing for his wild curls. “Say, are you local?” Garreth asks, leaning forward over the counter again with an inquisitive look.
Of course, that was the moment the cashier from earlier stepped back to flag Garreth down. “Garreth! A little help—?” His smile was a little more strained than it had been a few minutes ago, and one of his feet was tapping a frantic rhythm into the floor tiles.
You were irritated for a flash of a moment before you realized that Leander and the brunette currently cranking out drink orders like it was a life or death situation had been stranded while Garreth was talking to you. You felt a bit guilty, face starting to burn.
“Oops! Sorry, love, it’s a bit busy back here. Will you be coming by again—?” Garrreth leans back into his side of the counter, eyes still locked with yours. “Yes, Lee, I hear you! Well—“ He’s distracted, now, glancing back and forth between the two of you. He gives up trying to ask you anything, slapping together a quick dismissal, his smile apologetic. “Have a good evening, doll. Enjoy your drink!”
You barely had time to wave a goodbye before Garreth was sprinting over to help the brunette make orders. You didn’t even get to apologize for keeping him.
The bell jingled again on your way out, but you didn’t pay it any mind. You hadn’t even taken a sip of your drink, your mind too preoccupied with the curly haired ginger you’d just talked to. You would have to come again, you decided. Besides, when you finally got around to sipping your beverage, it was phenomenal.
You were halfway back to your apartment when you realized you’d been driving home.
Whoops.