Brewing Affection | Scaramouche Oneshot

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The classroom was gradually emptying as the last rays of sunlight filtered through the windows, casting long shadows that danced across the walls.

Your professor's voice echoed in your mind as you packed up your things, his final words signaling the end of another long day. Your classmates' laughter and chatter filled the air, a stark contrast to the quiet storm brewing in your thoughts.

"Hey, why don't you come with us to grab a drink?" Emma, one of your classmates, called out to you with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

You returned her smile, but it felt more like a grimace. "Thanks, but I can't. I have some things to take care of." I have to go to work.

"Oh come on, just this once," another one chimed in. "You never hang out with us."

You shook your head, still smiling. "Maybe another time."

They do not know that you have work, not that you're keeping it as a secret. You just knew better than to believe their casual invitations. You couldn't afford to waste your time with people who didn't genuinely care about you, who talked shit behind your back when you're not around. You preferred the quiet comfort of your own company and the satisfaction of doing something meaningful with your time.

As you finished packing your bag, you felt a sense of relief. You don't need their approval. You had your own path, one that involved working hard and staying true to yourself. You slung your backpack over your shoulder and turned to leave, but just as you reached the door, you collided with someone. Papers flew into the air like startled birds.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed, dropping to your knees to gather the scattered sheets.

"It's okay," a familiar voice replied, and your heart skipped a beat. Scaramouche.

You glanced up to see his indigo eyes looking down at you with a mix of surprise and amusement. Both of you reached for the same paper, your hands brushing for a brief moment. His touch sent a jolt through you, making your heart race.

"I'm really sorry," you repeated, feeling your cheeks heat up.

He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your insides flutter. "No harm done."

You handed him the last of his papers, avoiding his gaze. "I... I really have to go."

Before he could say anything else, you bolted from the classroom, your heart pounding inside your chest. You hated how flustered he made you feel, like a schoolgirl with a hopeless crush. Once outside, the cool evening air helped calm your nerves as you made your way home.

-

At home, you quickly change into your coffee shop uniform, the familiar fabric a comforting reminder of the routine that grounded you.

Walking to the café, you felt a sense of peace. The rich aroma of coffee beans and the soft murmur of customers welcomed you like an old friend. As you tied on your apron and stepped behind the counter at the café, you feel like a conductor stepping onto the stage, ready to orchestrate the symphony of flavors and aromas that will dance across the palates of the patrons. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans envelops you like a warm embrace, filling the air with promises of serene nights.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself thinking about him. His quiet intelligence, the way he smiled at you-it all made your heart ache with a longing you barely understood. You shook your head, focusing on the orders in front of you.

But then, just as you were starting to find your rhythm, the familiar jingle of the bell above the door caught your attention. You glanced up and your breath caught in your throat. There he was, standing in the doorway, scanning the room until his eyes landed on you. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he walked up to the counter.

He frequently visits the coffee shop almost every night, his presence as constant as the sunrise. He's the only one, your schoolmate, who knew about your work. You were classmates, yet your interactions were limited to polite nods and fleeting smiles. There was a time in biology class when you were lab partners for a week. His quiet intelligence and thoughtful manner had captivated you, but outside the classroom, you never spoke. Except for when he orders something every night.

"Hi," he said, his voice warm and familiar.

"Hi," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "What can I get for you?"

"I'll have a black coffee, please," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

As you prepared his drink, you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement. When you handed him the cup, your fingers brushed again, sending a spark up your arm. "Here you go," you said, your voice softer than you'd intended.

"Thanks," he said, his smile widening. He took a seat by the window, just like he did every night.

You went back to work, but your mind was on him. The way he sipped his coffee, lost in thought, occasionally scribbling in a notebook.

-

When the rush died down, you began clearing tables. As you picked up his empty cup, your heart skipped a beat. Underneath it was a small, folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, the familiar handwriting sent a shiver down your spine.

"Among the coffee,
Your brilliance quietly blooms,
Like dawn's first light."

A haiku. Just like the ones you'd been finding in your locker, your textbooks, and even slipped under your door at home. Each one a small, poetic tribute to your talents, your skills, and your beauty. You had never known who was behind them, but now a realization dawned on you.

-

The next day at school, you was determined to find out. After class, you spotted Scaramouche at his locker. Summoning all your courage, you approached him.

"Hi, Scaramouche," you began, your voice wavering slightly. He turned, surprise flickering in his eyes. "I need to ask you something."

"Sure, what's up?" he replied, his tone easygoing.

"Are you... have you been leaving me these notes?" You pulled out the haiku from the previous night, holding it up for him to see.

His eyes widened, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "I... I didn't think you'd figure it out."

"So it is you?" You asked, heart pounding.

He nodded, looking sheepish. "Yeah, it's me. I've been too shy to talk to you in school, so I thought maybe this way... I could let you know how I feel."

A warm feeling spreads through you, melting away any lingering doubts or fears. Ever since you've started receiving those notes, you never thought of it as creepy or something negative. In fact, you're using those as inspiration to do better each day.

"I've admired you for a long time," you confessed, smiling. "I just never had the courage to say anything."

His eyes lit up with a mix of relief and happiness. "Maybe we could hang out sometime? Outside of school and your work?"

"I'd love that," you said, smiling. "I'd love that a lot."

As you both walked out of the classroom together, the sunset casting a warm glow around you, you can't help but feel that this was the beginning of something beautiful.

-

will probably make a part two for this. it's scaramouche after all🤭