Memories

The Smell of Coffee

Joshua

It was a cold day, I was smoking a cigarette, the one thing that would ease the pain. It was outside a little coffee shop, Little Eclair, then she came out. She was brunette, but her hair glowed in the sunlight. She was distracting, her olive skin and full lips. It was daunting, even. Apparently her grandmother owned that shop and I had no business to be there. 

Clara

It was a cold day, I love the cold. Nana asked me to help out that day. It was Little Eclair and it has been in our family for generations. Then he showed up, dark soft hair, pale skin. He was so annoying. Why was someone with his amount of wealth in these streets? Why couldn't he just get one of his assistants to get him a coffee? But he wasn't even buying anything! He was just loitering out the front! He had no business being here.

~~~

Joshua

I laugh as she comes out, god she was fuming. 

"Why are you loitering?!" She yells at me and I laugh more, but it's not a nice laugh, it's almost a mocking one. I put my hands up in surrender, my cigarette hanging in-between my lips as the ash falls on her shoe. "Why are you smoking near the shop?!"

"Relax! It's nothing that deep, just wanted a coffee." I say, she looks even more mad at that. I don't get the issue, plus, I'm Joshua Fargo, she'll have to listen to me. 

"Then buy one idiot!" She yells and goes back inside. I put my cigarette out before I follow her and purchase a caramel latte from a redhead at the register. She makes my drink, calls out my name and gives me a glare as I take it. 

I take my caramel latte from the brunette behind the counter, smirking as she hands it over with a glare. She's clearly annoyed, but I find it amusing. I take a slow sip, letting the warm, sweet taste of the coffee roll over my tongue.

"Thanks for the drink," I say, a hint of mockery in my voice. She doesn't respond, just turns away, clearly wanting nothing more to do with me.

I lean against the counter, still holding my coffee, and scan the small shop. It's the kind of place where people come to unwind, but I'm pretty sure my presence is doing the opposite. The girl who yelled at me outside is busy wiping down tables, her movements sharp and agitated. She's still mad, and I can't help but chuckle quietly to myself. It's almost too easy to get under people's skin.

I flick my gaze back to the brunette, who's now pretending I don't exist. The ash from my cigarette earlier is long gone, already put out when I came in, but the tension it caused still lingers in the air.

"Are you planning to stand there all day?" she snaps, not looking up from whatever she's doing behind the counter.

I grin, enjoying the irritation in her voice. "Maybe. Depends on the coffee. You did a pretty good job," I say, taking another sip.

She rolls her eyes but doesn't bother to respond this time. I shrug, still amused. I'm in no rush to leave. It's entertaining to see how people react, especially when they're as easy to rile up as this lot.

I take another sip of my latte, savoring the mix of caramel and espresso. The taste is good, and I let out a satisfied sigh just to see if it'll get a rise out of anyone. The girl wiping the tables shoots me a glare but says nothing. I can tell she's still fuming, and it's almost too tempting to push her further. But I decide to let her be, for now.

I glance around the shop, noticing a few customers giving me side glances. Some look annoyed, others just curious. I can't help but smirk. I like the attention, even if it's not always positive. There's something satisfying about knowing I can shake things up just by being here.

I lean back against the counter, taking in the cozy decor. The walls are lined with old photos and quirky quotes, the kind of stuff that's meant to give the place character. It's nice, I guess, but not really my style. Too clean, too put-together. I prefer things a bit messier, a bit more unpredictable.

The brunette behind the counter clears her throat, snapping me out of my thoughts. "If you're not going to buy anything else, you should probably leave," she says, trying to sound authoritative.

I raise an eyebrow at her, amused by the attempt. "Why? Am I bothering someone?" I ask, knowing full well I am.

She glares at me, clearly frustrated. "Look, I'm just doing my job. We don't allow loitering, and you've been here long enough."

I shrug, pushing off the counter. "Fine, fine. No need to get all worked up. I'll be on my way," I say, holding up my hands in mock surrender.

As I turn to leave, I catch the eye of the girl who yelled at me earlier. She's watching me, her expression a mix of irritation and relief. I give her a cheeky wink and head for the door, taking one last sip of my coffee before tossing the empty cup in the trash.

Outside, the air is crisp and cool, a stark contrast to the warmth of the shop. I stuff my hands in my pockets and start walking, a smirk still on my face. It's been a fun little diversion, but I've had my fill for now. Maybe I'll come back another day, see if I can stir things up again. After all, I'm Joshua Fargo—I go wherever the fun is.