Hosie~ One Shots

The Coffee Shop

The bell above the door jingled as Josie stepped into the café, leaving a trail of raindrops behind her. Hope barely glanced up from where she was wiping the counter, her dark eyes flicking toward the drenched girl standing in front of her.

"You're dripping on the floor," Hope muttered, tossing a rag toward Josie's hands.

Josie caught it with a grin, squeezing the ends of her soaked brown hair before dabbing at her jacket. "I know, tragic, isn't it? But I needed coffee, and I needed you."

Hope snorted, setting the rag aside. "I don't see how I'm on that list."

Josie just shrugged, unfazed as always. "Well, you make the best coffee in town. And I like your face, even when it's stuck in perpetual grump mode."

Hope rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the faintest twitch of her lips. She knew Josie by now—she was in here nearly every day, ordering something sweet and chatty, filling the quiet café with warmth Hope refused to admit she liked.

"What do you want?" Hope asked, reaching for a cup.

"Something warm," Josie said, shivering slightly. "Something that'll thaw my hands and maybe, if you're feeling generous, your icy heart."

Hope scoffed. "Not likely." But she still turned to the espresso machine, already knowing what she would make. A lavender honey latte—Josie's favorite.

She worked in silence, but Josie didn't seem to mind. She watched Hope with the same kind of interest she always did, like she was reading something between the lines, between the bitter remarks and the careful way Hope poured the milk.

When Hope slid the drink across the counter, Josie wrapped her fingers around the cup, sighing as the heat soaked into her hands. "You know me so well," she murmured.

Hope looked away, busying herself with wiping the counter again. "You're predictable."

"Or you pay more attention to me than you pretend to." Josie took a slow sip, eyes never leaving Hope's face. "So, what's your deal?"

Hope blinked at her. "What?"

"Why are you always scowling? I mean, I get that being a barista isn't exactly thrilling, but there has to be something that makes you happy."

Hope hesitated. "Why do you care?"

Josie tilted her head, considering. "Because I like you."

The words were so simple, so easy, yet they sent a sharp jolt through Hope's chest. She forced herself to roll her eyes. "You like annoying me."

"That too," Josie admitted, smiling. "But mostly, I just like you."

Hope swallowed, gripping the rag tighter. No one ever said things like that to her—not so plainly, not without expecting something in return.

Josie took another sip of her drink, then set the cup down and leaned forward, resting her arms on the counter. "I'm going to keep showing up, you know. Rain or shine."

Hope's fingers twitched. "Why?"

Josie gave her a look so soft, so full of quiet certainty, that it made Hope's heart ache. "Because I think you need someone to."

The café was quiet except for the hum of the espresso machine, the soft patter of rain against the windows.

Hope exhaled slowly, feeling something shift inside her, something small but real. She glanced at Josie's cup, then at the girl herself, still watching her with that insufferable, wonderful smile.

"Fine," Hope mumbled, avoiding Josie's gaze. "But at least wipe up your rain puddle before you go."

Josie beamed. "Deal."

And for the first time, Hope didn't mind the warmth Josie brought with her. Not in a cup, and not in her heart.