The Coffee Guy BoyxBoy ( #Wattys2016)

Chapter 1

Alex's POV

"Alex!" I heard my mom's obnoxious voice yell from downstairs. I whined as I pouted, not wanting to wake up. I turned the other side and hugged my pillow closer to me. "Alex!"

"What?" I doubt my mom could hear me from downstairs. My voice was muffled from the pillow. I heard loud footsteps and I knew my mom was getting closer. The door knob jiggled and I opened one of my eyes to peek. Mom was stood at the end of my bed, her arms crossed over her chest. She didn't look happy at all. I rolled my eyes and closed my eyes again, wanting to sleep take over me. I felt asleep at around three am, blame the Internet, not me.

"You're going to be late for the buss!" Mom hissed and took the cover off me. I groaned and reached my hand out to grab the covers, but gave up when I couldn't.

"I'm always late for the buss anyways." I huffed and opened my eyes, squinting when the light blinded me. Mom rolled her eyes and grabbed my arm, forcing me to stand up. Yes, I know, I'm 21 and go to university, and I live with my mom. Very childish, I know.

"Alex." Mom huffed and gave up on making me stand up. "Just get up, already."

"Fine." I yawned as I watched mom leave my room. I looked down as I stood up, and rubbed my eyes. The lack of sleep I got yesterday wasn't helping me focus. I went to the bathroom quickly, brushing my teeth and doing my business. I scurried to my bedroom and opened my wardrobe, looking for clothes to wear. I grabbed my black skinny jeans and my black plain shirt. I know, very black.

I quickly brushed my curly hair and jogged downstairs, seeing my mom giving me a look I couldn't really read. I kissed my mom's cheek and ran out. The wind blew my hair everywhere, which made me irritated and I walked down the pavement. I shoved my hands down my pockets as I hurried, seeing as the buss had stopped next to the stop.

I hopped on and looked around for a place. There were barely passengers and I was glad for it, meaning no awkward social conversations with them. I, as always, sat at the back. I put my backpack next to the empty seat and looked down my phone. I opened the Instagram app and scrolled through it, my finger tip slowly gliding across the screen.

**

Just before I go to class, I always go to this small cafe to buy coffee. It makes me pumped for the day and not act like a dead zombie. I entered, pushing the door as the bell ringed, signalling someone had entered. I looked around the empty cafe, except for one boy in the corner, all alone by himself, sitting and reading a black and purple book as he had his coffee in front of him. I've always noticed this guy coming around here in the mornings whenever I came down here to take coffee. He looks very familiar, but cannot put a finger on it. I ignored him and went to the cashier, telling my order. I smiled at the man as he asked for my name. I sighed and looked at the mysterious guy at the corner again. His eyebrows were furrowed together as his blonde-ish hair had covered his eyes. He reached his pale skin to brush the hair out of his eyes, and licked his lips. He had a nose ring and to be honest, he looked cool, mysterious and attractive.

I grabbed my coffee and was about to walk out, when I stopped dead in my tracks. I've always noticed him but never got the chance to talk to him properly. I was unsure myself if I should go and talk to him or not. I looked down at my cup as I brushed my finger tip across it, furrowing my eyebrows. I turned around and slowly made my way over to him. I watched as he looked up, his green eyes widening as he turned his head around to face me. I cockily smiled at him, raising my eyebrows.

"Hey." I leaned my head forward, as he watched me intensely as I tried to see what he was reading. I was surprised myself how I had the courage to talk to him. I'm an awkward potato and something like this was surprising.

"What'ca reading?" I asked. He sniffled as he closed his book, setting it on the wooden table in front of him.

"Oh, nothing." You could literally hear the nervousness in his voice. I pursed my lips, "can I have a seat?"

"Aren't you late for something? Don't you have to go somewhere?" He asked. I shook my head as I sat opposite to him, putting my coffee in front of me. "You look familiar; do I know you from somewhere?" I asked, frowning as I watched him fidgeting with his sleeves.

"Um-" he made an eye contact with me, "yeah. We have the same class." I was taken back.

"Which class?"

"Art class." He smiled slightly. I nodded my head, looking away. I had no idea what to say next, and the tension was getting more and more awkward. I debated of leaving or not.

And that's when it hit me. He always sat and drew, and drew. I didn't know what, but I think it must be something special and grateful.