Notes. Caffeine addiction. And little glances. It was around 3 a.m when (Y/N) finally stumbles into her apartment, hands full of a catastrophe she calls work. Notes, books, notebooks, sticky notes, and loose papers are scattered around the coffee table. What's a couple more pages? (Y/N) shrugs to herself, placing her work from today down on top of the never ending mound.
Realizing what time it was, she tiptoes over to the bathroom hoping she didn't wake her roommate, Macy. Macy and her did not always get along, only this morning had she yelled at (Y/N) for using the last of the oatmilk in the fridge even tho (Y/N) was usually the one who stocked the groceries.
Stuck on the door is a sticky note, not in (Y/N)'s handwriting, saying "GET YOUR SHIT OUT OF THE LIVING ROOM BEFORE I BURN THE BOOKS". Gasp. What century are we in? She thinks to herself. She knows she's messy, but did not realize that the extent of her uncleanliness had led to upset her roommate. I guess I am not sleeping tonight.
Three and a half hours later and a completely clean apartment, (Y/N) sighs and flops onto the couch. The cleaning bug may have bit her a little too hard and now the whole apartment sparkles as the sun rises through the kitchen window. She taps her phone screen and jumps off the couch with the last strain of energy she has left. 6:38 a.m.
"Shit. Shit. Shit." (Y/N) whispers to herself as she runs into her room. Work starts promptly at 8 and she has about a 30 minute walk to her office. She could call an uber to save time, but traffic in L.A. at this time is utterly stupid. She would be paying to be even more late.
(Y/N) quickly gets into the shower, changes into work attire, slaps some makeup less makeup on, and sprints out the door. 7:15 a.m.
The doors of Beck's rings as (Y/N) basically tramples her way inside. Hands resting on her knees (Y/N) blurts out, "Lana.. emer..gency.. i need.. caff... caffeine.." She barely gets the words out between breaths. She looks up to see a whole crowd of people inside the shop today. All the attention is turned towards her, death glares engaged. "Shit."
Instead of waiting in the abnormally long line, (Y/N) jumps behind the counter and begins making her drink.
"Who the hell are you?" Some 19-year old new hire asks (Y/N). "You can't be back here."
(Y/N) has no time for introductions, she stares at the poor kid and continues making her drink. Before she says anything, Stacey comes from the back with a muffin placed neatly on a plate, running it out to a customer.
"(Y/N/N)!" Stacey squeals. She runs in to hug her other daughter. "Why have you not been over to discuss (Y/F/Author)'s newest book? I have been dying to talk to you about it, but I guess you're too busy for me." (Y/N) begins to try to speak, but Stacey holds her hand up in protest. "I don't have time for excuses. Look at you. You look tired. Are you sleeping? Don't answer I don't want to know. You're coming over for dinner tonight with me and Mark and Lana, of course. I'll make your favorite!" She smiles excitedly and disappears with that muffin over to (Y/N)'s usuals table. (Y/N) watches her waltz away as she was caught of guard with that conversation (if you could call it that). At first she didn't register who was sitting at that table.
Blue hair guy. He smiles up at Stacey and (Y/N) reads the words Thank you off his lips. The longer she stares at this man, the more she can see how attractive he is. Maybe politeness is a bare minimum requirement, but he actually seems like he gives people the time of day and doesn't just brush them off. Throughly distracted, hot steam begins to hit her hand and she yelps as it brushes her skin. She yanks her hand away. Luckily her reflexes saved her this time. She breaths a sigh of relief knowing how that could have been a lot worse. Shit that was close.
She finishes making her drink and looks at the comically large clock on the wall. 7:28 a.m. Once she caps her drink, she past the blue haired man and slightly smiles at him.
"Have a good day (Y/N)!" He speaks as her back is to him.
She doesn't bother turning around and just waves by holding her cup in the air.
No time for small talk.
YOU ARE READING
Small Talk and the Coffee Shop- Damien Haas x Reader AU
Fanfiction"How's your day going?" She glanced up from the novel she was invested in. She didn't speak, sipped her drink curiously, and just stared at the hazel eyes in front of her. "So much for small talk." Interning at the Mythical Entertainment Studios...
