Stay [a danisnotonfire fanfiction]

The guessing game

"I have a game! Go sit in that cosy little corner booth over there, that looks nice, I'll order our drinks?" Dan suggests, eyes bright.

"Dude, how is that a game?!" I laugh.

"Ah, you don't get a choice in what drink I order you. You have to guess what it is."

"Challenge accepted, Mr Howell." I say with a smile, touching my index and middle fingers to my forehead in a small salute, and spinning on my toes.

I make my way over to the seats Dan pointed out, and take my phone out of my pocket. Opening the twitter app, I glance at Dan standing by the counter, also holding his phone. I smile once again at how antisocial we both are, and type "Dan Howell" into the search bar. A few suggestions pop up, a lot of them what appear to be fan accounts. I press a few random follow buttons to get an idea of how stalker-like and creepy his fans are, and then click on the top suggestion's profile, beginning to read his replies to desperate fangirls and his internet friends.

I feel the seat move beside me and look up to see Dan looking over my shoulder at his own twitter profile.

"Stalking me, huh?" he winks, sliding a cup in front of me.

"Oh, this is you?" I point a finger at the screen, pretending to be surprised.

Dan gives me a sarcastic look and punches my arm softly. "Drink your drink, woman, guess away!" He insists with a laugh.

I narrow my eyes and dramatically swipe the cup from in front of me. Bringing it slowly to my mouth and deliberately building fake tension, I hold eye contact with Dan who tries to comically immitate my expression. I keep the laughter at the corner of my lips as the heat from the drink swirls around my nose.

"Caramel macchiato." I say, not moving the cup or my gaze.

Dan's jaw drops. "You haven't even tasted it yet!" he protests.

I take a sip from the cup and smile as the hot coffee burns my throat.

"Happy now?" I wink.

"Of course not, I'm sat here with you!" He scoffs sarcastically, flipping his hair.

"Shut up, asshole!" I joke, pushing him sideways.

He mocks horror, covering his mouth with his hand like a teenage whore from those stereotypical American movies.

I laugh and take another sip of my caramel flavoured coffee, watching Dan do the same with his own drink. I smile over the top of my cup, and he smiles back, brown eyes sparkling.