A Collection of Imagines

Kian

Decaf White Chocolate Mochas

Rage flooded my entire body. How can I be so stupid to get myself fired at my temp job? Well, the job that I had in order to make some cash while continuing the prosperous journey of an aspiring actress. So, I just lost the only stable thing I had going for me. I pushed my way past the counter. I unwrap my apron from my waist. The annoying material of the stupid thing made me want to burn it at the spot. I look over the counter to see my manager with crossed hands over his chest. I walk towards the glass doors of the stupid coffee shop and throw the apron at the asshole. He's shocked as the garment hits him straight in the face. I thought I would smile at the hilarious expression on his face, but I don't feel any better. 

I skid down the street towards the coffee shop. Skateboard in hand, earphones in the other. Switching through the playlist that made me think of her. The girl that I know nothing about, yet I'm infatuated by her. I know it's kind of a cliche to take a liking to someone who makes my coffee for me, but I can't help but pray for one of the visits that will lead to her writing her number on my cup. I press shuffle once more to give me some confidence before walking in. Tempt My Trouble by Bishop Briggs. 

I force my way past angry customers that have been standing in a long line since the asshole decided he wanted to fire me in front of my coworkers. I was late three times in the last few months I have been working here and that was only because I could have gotten a real gig. I wrap my hand around the handle of the shiny glass door and push it open fast. I knock into something. I wanted to scream at the person blocking my way, but when I look up I notice something. I've seen him before. Just before I blurt out, "Get out of my way rich white boy. Money doesn't grow on trees. Some of us have to earn it", he smiles. And I remember him. He's the guy that always comes in on Mondays and Wednesdays, orders a decaf white chocolate mocha, and sits at the same spot by the window. Always in plain sight. I gain my balance once more and move out of the doorway. I remember all of the times I caught him staring at me from across the room and being to nervous to ask him his name. Well, since I'm probably never going to see him again, now is a better time than any.

I reach for the door handle, but I'm jolted back. When I look up to find the reason why, I find her scrambling into me. My first reaction was to laugh, but by her angry features I knew that that wasn't the right approach. She clasps her hand on my shoulder and catches her balance once again. Her eyes meet mine and I feel like a school girl who catches the eye of her long time secret crush. I'm completely vulnerable in this moment and it's foreign to me. Her hair whips slowly in the soft wind and falls forward on her face. She brings up her dainty fingers up to move the strands away. I look at them closer and notice that despite their appearance of frailty, they look like they can do some real damage. You chose the meaning behind the choice of words in that sentence. 

 I shake my head, trying to free myself from his wandering eyes. "I'm sorry." 

She moves away from me. She releases her touch from my shoulder. "Oh, don't worry. You didn't hurt me ... that much." 

I laugh. He's funny. He steps back and shoves his hands in the pockets of his vintage jeans. I like the way he tucks his long shirt into his secured pants around his waist. The branded beanie sitting on the top of his head hides the buzzed hairstyle he sports nowadays. The shiny metal of the ring pierced into his nose gleams in the low light of the autumn afternoon. I shake my head again. Why do I get so poetic when it comes to this guy? 

"So ... why aren't you in there, behind the counter." For some reason, once those words came out of my mouth I wanted to take them back. Of course she does other things than make coffee for a living. 

"Well, unfortunately I just got fired." I pang of regret goes off in the pit of my stomach. I should have lied. 

"Oh. Well, where else am I going to get coffee?" She chuckles slightly. I got a smile. This is a start. 

"There's other places that make decaf white chocolate mochas." 

"Yeah, but none of them make it as good as you do." 

Holy fuck, this guy is smooth. I rake my hands through my hair and flip it to the other side. I bite down on my nail at the sight of him watching my hair fall. He's so attractive and I have a feeling he doesn't know that. To me, that just makes him more appealing. 

"So..." 

"So..."

"So how many more decaf white chocolate mochas does there need to be for me to get your number?"