Wildflowers

How Terribly Ordinary

It was a quiet evening, the kind where the sky outside was just beginning to turn an inky blue, the air crisp and cool. Mount Greylock loomed in the distance, its shadow stretching over the little town like an ancient secret.

The small diner, nestled at the corner of a sleepy street, offered a stark contrast to the darkness outside, its warm light spilling out onto the cobblestone pavement. Inside, the aroma of greasy burgers, freshly brewed coffee, and apple pie filled the air, wrapping the place in an oddly comforting haze.

The door to the diner gave a faint jingle as Severus Snape stepped inside, the night's cool air still clinging to his cloak. His eyes swept the room, taking in the checkered floors, the old jukebox humming in the corner, and the soft chatter of a few scattered patrons.

It was nothing like the smoky taverns he was used to back home. This place had a strange charm to it—quaint, perhaps even peaceful—but it wasn't what he had in mind.

He was here for one thing: to find his way to the cottage he'd rented, somewhere on Taylor Lane, and be done with the day.

He moved toward a booth near the window, sinking into the worn leather seat. His posture was stiff, his body betraying the exhaustion that clung to him like a second skin, but his mind was sharp, always on guard. It had to be, even after all these years.

"Coffee," he muttered when the waitress appeared, barely looking up at her. "Black."

"Coffee?" a lilting voice asked. "How terribly ordinary."

He glanced up, expecting the usual dead-eyed waitress to be scribbling down his order. But this one—she was different. She was already leaning over the counter slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, her eyes dancing with amusement. She had dark hair that fell loosely over her shoulders, and there was a confident, almost teasing gleam in her hazel eyes that made Severus frown.

"We have espresso," she said, with a tone that suggested it was the only reasonable choice for anyone with taste. "I make it myself. Much stronger than your average coffee."

Severus checked the time on the clock hanging over the counter. He sighed, feeling a wave of irritation bubbling beneath his calm facade. "It's too late in the day for espresso," he replied dryly.

Her smirk widened, playful and slightly mischievous. "Ah, too late for espresso, I see," she said, tilting her head. "So, you can't handle it. Understood."

His black eyes snapped up to meet hers, a brow arching slightly. She was clearly trying to bait him, and he wasn't in the mood. Yet, despite himself, he felt a spark of something. Irritation, certainly, but there was a hint of amusement creeping in that he tried to suppress.

"Coffee," he repeated, his tone firm but lacking any real venom.

"Very well, coffee it is." She turned to leave but threw a glance over her shoulder, her eyes lingering on him just a bit longer than they should have. "Though, it's a shame. Espresso's more... exciting."

He let out a quiet, exasperated breath as she walked away, feeling his mind wander for a brief moment. She was far too bold for a waitress, too confident in her approach. It unsettled him, but also intrigued him in ways he didn't care to admit.

A few minutes later, she returned with his coffee, setting it down in front of him with that same maddening smirk. "Anything else I can get for you, stranger?"

"I'm looking for Taylor Lane," Severus said, getting to the point. "Do you know where it is?"

She raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Taylor Lane? Of course I know where it is." Her tone was casual, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. She wasn't going to make this easy.