The pebble bounced once-twice-thrice before stopping as I scuffed my Chuck clad feet down the pavement on my way home. 'Fletcher' didn't get his drink, which, I know, sounds creepy but I've been working at that damn coffee shop opening to closing, five days a week for almost a year now and he has seriously never missed a day.
Like, legit; never.
Not even on weekends.
Luke - they guy who works Friday to Tuesday and is basically one of my favourite people in the entire world - tells me every Monday what time Curly came in and always mentions that sadly, on his part, Curly never makes any attempt at flirting with him. Oh well.
Like I said, he has never missed a day.
I felt sorry for the guy to be honest, he'd never had anyone with him when he got his drink and then he'd go and sit at the table in the corner. No sooner had his perfect, perky little arse (who's looking) hit the chair, he'd bite his lip - do you mind - and take a photo on his phone, whilst smiling to himself. Next he'd start drumming on the table top with his fingers, just tap-tap-tapping out a random rhythm that's completely out of time with whatever's playing through the shop.
Drummer boy would then take a sip of his drink before picking it up and walking out, making sure to lock eyes and wink at me whilst he opened the door, swaying his hips as le left and leaving me dazed.
He is, to me, quite the puzzle.
And I'm gong to figure him out.
[sorry that the prologue is so short, I was trying to make this into a chapter and it wasn't working so HEY, here you go it's an update, ish, not really...
this really is horrible, I'll edit it soon, sorry]
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coffee boy ∆ m . c + a . i
FanfictionThere's a boy who stops by every day, you might've seen him; the one with the blonde curly hair. He always gets the same thing: "One venti triple caramel frappuccino and cream, please, with extra coffee and caramel just because you love me." he sa...
