Unforgettable (Harry Styles)

83 1 0
                                    

Maine's POV

My gaze slowly moved from the dark-red tables and rusty-wood chairs to the small radio in the back corner of the coffee shop. It's appearance looked rugged and worn out, with one broken knob, and an ugly green color, but I'm not complaining.

        I made my way to the register. There was a small golden bell, I guess it was used to summon someone from the back to take your order. My fingertips grazed over the top and slowly made their way to the bottom. I picked it up and inspected the bottom. In small silver-engraved letters, it said May God be with your soul, forever. I set it on the counter top in a gentle manner and picked up my camera, which was hanging from my neck. I snapped a quick picture and looked at the screen of my Canon. This place will need a lot more than just pictures to get customers.

      To the measly right of the golden bell, there was an empty jar. In sloppy, kindergarten letter it said Tips. I would've guessed it was written by a five-year-old, which is exactly what it looked like. But the sloppy, kindergarten letters weren't the distraction of the jar; it was the fact that nothing was inside. Well, I can't say nothing, there was dust. Lots and lots of dust covering the bottom like a small ocean. An ocean of dust.

     I looked up at the menu and inspected it. They didn't have much to choose from, but the prices were pretty low. One dollar for a small Carmel Mocha, and a brownie, cus- and that's as far as I got, for the rest was scratched off and unable to read. I looked around again to take everything in and notice a telly in the front-right corner. It was turned off and looked like it hasn't been used in a long time.

     I finished looking around the shop and rang the bell on the counter. I waited for service to come but sadly, no one appeared. I rang it again, a sure-fire sign I was getting a little impatient. No one came the second time around. I'll just leave then.

     I hastily made my way to the creaky door, when I was stopped by a slow, low-pitched voice luring me back towards the register. I turned around swiftly and my gaze landed on a tall boy with extremely curly hair. He looked at me from the register, and smiled.

"Are you the girl coming in for the newspaper?" he asked me. I looked at him and half smiled, half frowned. "Yes, I came in and no one showed up after I rang that bell twice!" He laughed and looked me straight in the eyes. My hand let go of the doorknob and I made my way back to the register. When I got there, I saw his features more clearly. He had sparkling forest-green eyes, like mine, but with even more glaze. He also had dimples on both cheeks, the kind that would make any girl crazy. He was surely good-looking, but I didn't let that come to a distraction or taunt. "So, is this your coffee shop?" I asked looking around once more. He looked down and played with his fingers. "Um, no, actually. It's my grandmother's. I work here when I'm not at the university." He met my gaze once again and smirked. "Your eyes are absolutely lovely," he said slowly. I looked at him in my most mature manner.

"Thank you, but I'm not one to fool around. I'm only here to get pictures for the paper. That's all." His face slowly sank, but then brightened as if an idea just came to him. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" he asked.

"I didn't bring my money," I said sheepishly, almost embarrassed for some reason. He smiled again and said, "On the house, for a beautiful girl like you." He asked me what I would like.

"A Vanilla Latte?" I asked. He nodded, "may I know your name?"

"Maine," I said quietly.

"Maine, what a lovely name." He started making my latte while also trying to start an indulging conversation with me.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Jan 20, 2014 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

Unforgettable (Harry Styles)Where stories live. Discover now