Work Text:
Feyre tied on her stupid apron, embroidered with the words Mud House. She mumbled to herself about how much she hated her dumb job, and her dumb family, and practically everything. She’d been essentially running her father’s coffee shop, Mud House, for five years now, since she was 14, and she was done with it.
“Feyre! You have three trays to bring to three different tables! God, can’t you do something for once?” She fought the urge to punch her sister, Nesta, in the face. Do something. Feyre settled for a pointed eye roll instead as she picked up the coffee mugs on one tray and set them on the table they were meant for. She forced a smile as they thanked her and went to retrieve the other cups for the table in the corner.
She picked up the steaming mug, still grumbling to herself as she headed towards the corner. And slammed straight into a wall of human. The latte sloshed out of the mug, pouring onto the man in front of her, who was, unfortunately, clothed in what looked like an Italian suit. Her mouth dropped open as she met the eyes of the dark haired man in front of her, who was pressing his lips together to keep from either screaming or fuming. Or both.
She rushed to set the cup down on the table next to her and yanked the towel out of her apron, using it to try and wipe the coffee of the beautiful man’s suit.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I’m such a klutz. Do you need anything? Oh my God!” She heard a soft chuckle, but didn’t look up from the man’s chest, still trying to get the coffee stain out or at least do something.
“Darling?” The man’s deep voice rumbled through her. She looked up to find piercing blue eyes staring at her. Her mouth stayed open. “You’re rubbing my suit.” He had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Feyre gasped and pulled her hands off him.
“I’m so sorry.” He took his suit coat off and slung it over one arm, smiling at her the whole while.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to make it up to me. And this suit was very expensive.”
“I’m sure we can give you a gift card or something. Oh, God, I’m so sorry. Were you going to a meeting or something? Now your suit is ruined. Shit.” Feyre clasped her hand over her mouth. They (she) technically weren’t allowed to use curse words while on the job. Thankfully, no one heard her, and she was in clear for now. The man’s deep chuckle sounded again. She ran behind the counter, and the man followed to rest his arms on the side opposite from hers.
“I was going to a meeting, but I live just around the corner and I can head back and change. It’s really okay…” he paused, searching for a name tag. Feyre didn’t have one. He looked at her instead, and she blushed for no reason.
“Feyre. I, um… Do you want some coffee?”
“That would be lovely.” Feyre turned to go fix his drink, pulling a mug off the shelf.
“How do you like it?” She called over her shoulder, not even fully turning to face him. She was still too embarrassed.
“Lots of sugar, no cream.” She finished quickly and slid it over the counter.
“On the house. Sorry again.” He smiled at her, and she about melted right there.
“I’ll be back so you can make it up to me.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he was already striding away.
“Did that man have coffee on him, Feyre?” Nesta almost shouted it at her. Feyre just rolled her eyes and poured herself some coffee.
~
To give him credit, the man did come back. In fact, he came back every morning with he same request. Coffee, lots of sugar, no cream. And every morning, Feyre made his drink and gave it to him free of charge. They’d talk for a couple minutes, but Nesta would screech at her every time a new customer came in and she wasn’t manning the register and the cappuccino machine.
A dry cleaning bill never showed up to Mud House, as Feyre had suspected, and instead, the man just came back for more free coffee. Or maybe he came back to see her. That was unlikely.
“Why do you put up with her?” He nodded back at Nesta, who was fussing about something behind the counter. Feyre shrugged. It had been two weeks since she’d spilled coffee on him, and he’d never even brought it up.
“She’s family. She means well, really she does, she just doesn’t know how to… go about caring for someone.” Feyre shrugged again, tossing the rag she’d been using to wipe off a table over her shoulder. She pivoted and began to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist lightly. A jolt of electricity shot up her arm at the touch.
“I’m Rhys, by the way.” Feyre blushed. She hadn’t even realized she didn’t know his name.
“Okay,” she said, carrying on the counter. Rhys. An interesting name to fit an interesting man. Nesta swatted her with a towel and glared pointedly at the register, but Feyre just rolled her eyes, still gazing at the man in the corner.
~
“You look especially ravishing in your apron today, Feyre.” Feyre chuckled as Rhys leaned across the counter to talk to her.
“Why thank you, kind sir.” She grinned at him as she returned with his coffee. “Here.”
“How much?” Feyre looked up.
“What?”
“How much is the coffee?” He reached behind him to pull out his wallet. “I think your debt has been paid. I’ve gotten free coffee for three months now.” She stared at him for a second.
“Four-oh-five.” He nodded and pulled a five dollar bill out of his wallet, handing the green paper to her. She handed him his change. “Guess I won’t see you as much now, without the free coffee.”
Rhys looked up at her, his eyes so blue they looked violet. He held her gaze as he tugged his coffee towards him.
“I don’t come for the coffee. That’s just an added bonus.” Feyre eyes widened, and she blushed, looking down at her hands.
“What?”
“Would you like to go to dinner with me?” Her eyes snapped up, back to Rhys’s face. The man she’d come to call one of her closest friends. The man who took payment for a ruined suit in mediocre coffee. The man who cared about her more than anyone in her family did.
“Yes, I’d like that very much.”
~
“I’m not saying it was your fault, I’m just saying wasn’t completely mine.” Feyre argued, her face squishing up a little bit.
“It was totally your fault. That coffee was scalding, just so you know. I had a burn mark for a week. But I guess it’s all in the past, I got a lot of free coffee.” Rhys had a charming twinkle in his eye, and Feyre had half a mind to drop the conversation there and let him get away with it, but his smirk was absolutely infuriating.
“Oh no. You should have been watching where you were going just as much as me. Both of us could have avoided that collision, just saying.”
“Well I didn’t think the coffee would spill! I thought bumping into you would be romantic, or something,” Rhys sputtered. Feyre’s eyes widened.
“You tried to bump into me?” Feyre’s voice was soft, and she watched as Rhysand’s ears turned bright red and he shrunk down into his collar.
“I, uh, no, I didn’t say, um, maybe?” He looked at her sheepishly. “I just thought you were pretty, that’s all.”
It was Feyre’s turn to smirk.
“You think I’m pretty?”
“Absolutely breathtaking.” Now her turn to blush. “That’s why I stayed for the sub-par coffee.”
Feyre loosed a breath.
“It is terrible, isn’t it? I’ve tried to get them to buy new brands for the past few years, but my father refuses. It’s not like I really own the shop or anything, but honestly I think we’ll go out of business unless we change something soon. Maybe we should redecorate. Do you like the interior design? Or maybe a new menu…”
“Feyre,” Rhys said, cutting her off. She looked up at him with a hmm? “I was kidding. Now let’s get out of here.”