f i v e | coffee dates and coffee creators

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HS

On Tuesday afternoon, Harry gets a call from Charlotte.

"Harry! Hi!" she greets, sounding cheery.

"Hey Char, what's up?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and putting his feet up on his desk, twirling his pen around in his fingers.

"Just wanted to know if you wanted to meet for coffee tomorrow afternoon?" She asks and he starts to think, wondering if he has anything happening already. He doesn't think so, but he's not entirely sure.

"I should be free, just give me a minute and I'll check," He says and sits up, checking the calendar on his computer to make sure he doesn't have any surprise faculty meetings or anything of the sort, "Yeah I can do tomorrow afternoon. Bloomsbury?" He asks and she smiles, but he can't see it. He can hear it, though, can hear it in her voice.

"Sounds perfect, be there around...half four?"

"Great, I'll be there. I'm looking forward to it," He grins, "Will Louisa be there?"

"No, she has her dance rehearsal until half five, so it'll be just the two of us."

"Fine by me. Well, I should get going, have to keep working, and such," He says, and she chuckles.

"You do that, and I will see you tomorrow," She hangs up first, letting Harry get back to his duties.

The rest of the day and the next pass normally and soon enough, it's nearing half four and he's pushing the door open to Bloomsbury, wondering if he should get his coffee before Charlotte shows up, or if he should wait for her.

He was going to wait, but the aromas of coffee, cinnamon, and baked goods invades his senses, and he finds himself unable to wait any longer, so he walks up to the counter and waits for one of the baristas to appear and take his order.

"Ni, there's a customer!" A lad about his age calls into the back, and he hears some shuffling and rustling around, as well as a hushed swear, before the lad in the back is busting out into the front of the cafe, looking a little frantic and disheveled.

When Harry sees him, his eyes blow wide and his breath catches in his throat, no longer able to think or breathe or speak. He thinks he may actually die.

"Hi, what can I get you?" Niall asks, a small insincere smile on his lips, leaving Harry to try and catch his breath.

"H-Hi...um, c-can I have a medium coffee with a touch o-of cinnamon?" He stutters out, mentally slapping himself for being such a spaz and embarrassing himself in front of the love of his life.

"Hey, that's how I take my coffee, too," Niall's smile turns into a real one as he looks at Harry, then looking down and entering the order with one hand while reaching for the medium sized coffee cup, before taking Harry's card from his outstretched and shaking hand, "What's your name?" He asks, looking at Harry with wide, shining eyes, and the most perfect little smile Harry has ever seen.

"Uh, H-Harry," He stutters out again, hating himself for not being able to get his shit together.

"Nice name," Niall compliments and turns around to start making the coffee, still smiling.

Harry steps to the side, still completely baffled as to how he just so happened to stumble into the one coffee house Niall works in, which just so happens to also be the one he's been going to since he moved to London as a teenager.

A Touch of Cinnamon ✓Where stories live. Discover now