Wolfstar Oneshots

18. People Watching

It wasn't uncommon for Remus Lupin to sit alone in a cafe sipping on a black coffee that had gone room temperature as time waned on. What could possibly be a better pass-time than people watching when trying to write a novel? He liked to guess what each patron's cup contained when they received it from the counter. He had gotten pretty good at matching the strange personality of each one to the drink that was called out by the barista. Perhaps he should give up his career and become a full time coffee fortune teller instead.
He sat in the same corner every day, promptly at 6 am, with all of his bits and bobs sprawled out over the peeling table. An old fountain pen that was halfway out of ink accompanied a pencil that had been bitten to well past what a normal person would consider to be trash. Yet he kept them, if not for their functionality then for the memories he had associated with them. Remus had always considered himself to be the sentimental type, although some might say it was bordering on hoarding than anything else.
His bulging leather bag was filled with pads of paper and notebooks that had been full of scribbles for months already, along with receipts from his visits to the coffee shop, a few pebbles and acorns from his walks to the bus station, loose change, backup writing utensils, and a little carving of a wolf made out of red jasper. He had wandered into a mystic shop one day, and the owner practically threw the thing at him, claiming the energy he possessed was perfectly encapsulated by the thing. He normally didn't believe in that type of thing, but he kept it with him just in case. After all, he liked the memory.
Today someone new moseyed into the cafe. He had long black hair, and had an all black outfit to match: leather jacket, bracelets, rings, nail polish— the whole getup. The typical punk type, Remus thought, though perhaps he was just someone who liked the style.
People like him are always predictable, they order something like a black coffee, perhaps with a little cream, because anything else would be too mainstream, or girly, or whatever other negative stereotype was associated with a sugary coffee drink. Surprisingly, this man smiled when he ordered and didn't have the typical scowl that most poser-punks glued to their face at all times. Remus jotted down his prediction and waited patiently for the man's drink to be called out.

" Sirius. Medium blended mocha."

Oh. How strange. He ordered something with sugar, Remus thought to himself. Even odder was the fact that it was blended, something real coffee-drinkers would never do. Remus frowned a little and added a note to his prediction. He would need to work on his people watching skills a little more.  The man— Sirius— left the coffee shop and Remus went back to working on his novel. It was a dark story about a man locked in a tower with nothing but books to keep him company. The idea was good in his head, but it wasn't coming to fruition when he marked it onto a page. His editor claimed that it was a boring and pointless story, with nothing that captivated the reader, begged him to add some romance or something that would spice it up a little. But what did romance have to do with anything? This story was about a man fighting with his inner demons, something as frivolous as romance had no place in this novel.
After a few hours of scratching away at a notepad and lot of furrowed eyebrows, the familiar noise of keys jingling woke Remus out of his trance. The shop owner was making her way to the door to lock up shop. She sighed a little and then turned to Remus. " Alright Rem, time to go home," She said with a smile, gesturing to the door. He scrambled to gather his things and shoved them in the tattered leather bag half-hazardously. " Thanks Marls, I'll see you again tomorrow."

The next day, Remus was back at the shop working again, his normal list of drinks and descriptions of people on the table beside him. Today he had seen a woman with long brown accompanied by a little child with sticky hands, a big burly man with a big beard and hair to match, and someone with a buzz cut and long necklaces. So far, his predictions for their beverages were more or less accurate. The bell hanging above the door jingled and he glanced up. It was the same man as yesterday, Sirius, he recalled. This time he was trailed by a beautiful redhead with small ears and freckles, and another man with tussled hair and large glasses. Usually Remus would just jot down a few things about each one and continue writing, but his interest was piqued. He watched them carefully as they walked up to the counter, laughing at something Glasses said. They ordered their drinks and sat down to wait. Remus noticed that Glasses and Freckles were sitting next to each other, with the former slinging his arm around her shoulder. Finally, the order was called.
" James, small americano."
" Lily, small Earl Grey."
Yeah that checks out, Remus nodded to himself. One final coffee was placed onto the counter. Drumroll please...
" Sirius, large lavender vanilla latte."
What? Not a mocha? Remus was perplexed. He brushed it off, maybe it was because the cafe was new to Sirius, or because his order was different with friends. It wasn't important. He went back to writing, but in spite of himself, he added a little star next to Sirius' name.