𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 | 𝟏𝟖+

2 | Coffee Shop Fiasco

DAY 4

Honey couldn't shake the hunky, mystery man from her thoughts.

The familiarity of his features intruded on every notion in her mind, the answer just on the tip of her tongue, but her brain would go into overdrive before she could piece it together. There was something behind those blue eyes, a commodity that Honey found resoundingly recognizable.

At least, it was on the tip of her tongue, right before the television at the coffee shop had caught her attention in between customers. There he was, his face plastered all across the news channel - except this version of him was clean shaven with short hair. 

Honey wanted to kick herself for ever possibly forgetting who Captain America was.

He had been one of the many who hadn't taken the aftermath of the blip very well. She remembered the forlorn day that Captain America goes into retirement was the most popular headline on every single news channel and newspaper, disappointing every boy under the age of five and making the rest of the world practically abandon all hope.

No wonder she had so much trouble putting a name to a face, mystery man was the last person one would expect to have been the Captain America. 

"Honey, can you grab the front while I run this garbage outside?" Harry asked, trash-bag in hand, breaking her from the all-consuming train of thought as she scrubbed away at the dirty dishes.

"Only for you, Harry." 

Removing her hands from the soapy water, Honey grabbed a hand towel on her way to the front, drying off her still-tender palms. As she moseyed her way behind the register, she looked up just as the bell on the entrance door jingled, the glass whisking open as none other than Steve Rogers himself entered the cafe. 

Her breath halting dead in her throat, Honey darted into the floor behind the cash register before he could notice her. After the other day, she was almost positive that she would never see the man she came close to murdering with her bicycle again, yet here he was - in her place of work.

"Are you going to take my order or are you going to stay down there and hide forever?"

Squeezing her brown eyes shut in embarrassment, Honey stood up rather quickly with the friendliest smile she could manage as she wiped her hands against her apron.

"I'm not hiding," she nervously chuckled, maintaining eye contact to make herself appear more serious. "I dropped a ... quarter. But I couldn't find it."

Steve didn't seem to think it was comical nor serious, his full lips forming a thin line as he stared back at her in annoyance. 

Breathing alone would more than likely be enough to anger this guy. 

As Honey fell under the trance of his smoldering blue eyes once again, seemingly helpless against his stare, the awkward silence felt as though it was replacing all of the oxygen in the air. The tension must have been noticeable to him, too, causing him to clear his throat loudly.

"My order?" he prompted in irritation.

"Oh, yes," Honey remembered softly, brushing her waves behind her ear as she stepped up to the screen, readying herself to type in his order. "What would you like?"

She was certain that her warm cheeks resembled cherry tomatoes at this point, all of her bearings flying out of the window the longer she was under his trance-like gaze.

"Small cup of coffee, black," he answered briskly, throwing some cash on the counter as he spoke, undeniably wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

"And what is the name for your order?" Honey asked tentatively, popping open the register and placing his exact change inside, careful not to seem as humiliated as she had felt.

Her eyes peeked up through her lashes at him as she waited on his response, gnawing at the inside of her lip as she observed the way he was looking at her in a way that said seriously?

Smacking his tongue against his teeth, he finally said, "Put it under jerk." 

Well, there was no question now that he had definitely heard what Honey has muttered under her breath during their previous encounter - making her stomach churn uneasily as she forced a tiny smile.

"Hmm," she nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. "Coming right up."

Twisting on her heel before he could glare at her in exasperation anymore, she grabbed a small coffee cup and placed it underneath the spout - watching the brown liquid pour into the cup followed closely by steam as she messed with the ends of her hair. Once the cup was full, Honey pulled the sharpie from her apron pocket and wrote "grumpy old man" on the cup with a satisfied, devious grin.

If he wanted to be so grouchy, then he had rightfully earned the title.

"One cup of coffee for the grumpy old man," she announced innocently, placing the cup at the pickup counter as she gave Rogers a toothy smile.

Just as Honey had expected, the cold look on his face never wavered - no smirk, no smile, not even so much as a grimace. Instead, his eyes stared at her for a few moments, trailing across her features intensely before he snatched the coffee cup and turned to leave.

"Come back and see us!" she called out as a last attempt at conversation just as the glass door shut behind him.

Honey Daniels had vowed to make it her mission to make Steve Rogers crack a smile.

If she ever saw him again.