What's In A Name? || A Rierra fanfiction

Three

Hey guys!

So, I do have one idea for a future chapter, but I think it's going to be around part five. I figured that I'd ask for your suggestions. What do you think would be a good plot point to add in part four? (And don't say that you want them to get together, I already have that planned too :P)

Remember, I always like to get feedback! Thanks!

-Han

A few weeks later, another lonely Christmas is coming, it’s too cold outside to even snow, and Ramin is having trouble scraping together enough money to pay the rent; but his spirits are high as he walks to Starbucks, all leather jacket and black beanie with his guitar slung over his shoulder. He’s come to consider Sierra one of his only friends, and his days are always brightened by getting to see her here.

She always writes a different nickname on his cup, and in return, he has taken to calling her “Sirruh”. He doesn’t have enough minutes on his cellphone to ever call or text her, but her number is programmed into his phone after she wrote it on his coffee cup one day.

It’s easier to admit it to himself, when he’s alone, but every time he sees her he becomes more certain that she’s more than just a friend to him. He’s not in love with her, but he likes her: he likes her auburn hair, her sparkling green eyes, her easy laugh and her glowing smile. He can’t stop thinking about her, no matter where he is.

Thank heaven she hasn’t found out yet.

“Morning, Sirruh,” he calls out when he walks in the door, and her eyes widen when she sees his guitar.

“Are you going to play something?” she asks breathlessly as he reaches the counter. He’s never seen her this excited before.

He grins modestly, glad the shop is nearly empty right now. “That’s the plan, as long as you don’t mind,” he answers, sitting down at his table.

“The usual?” Sierra asks, turning to the coffee machine.

“Yup,” he says, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. Then he remembers that he can’t really afford his drink right now, but he can’t just tell her that he has no money, and he definitely isn’t leaving.

He’s been staring blankly at his open wallet for about half a minute when Sierra says, “Actually, this one is on the house.”

“What?” He looks up.

She shrugs and bites her lip. “If you play and sing for me, you don’t have to pay for your coffee,” she says.

Ramin’s cheeks heat in embarrassment and annoyance. “You don’t have to –”

“It’s fine, honestly,” she interrupts with a tone that stops him from arguing further.

He lowers his head, settling his guitar on his lap and busying himself by tuning it until his blush fades. He really doesn’t have much money and he would be an idiot not to accept free coffee, but he hates when people feel obligated to offer him charity.

Sierra comes out from behind the counter and sets his cup on the table. She sits down in the chair across from him, and he gives her a quick nod of thanks as he lifts his cup to his mouth. The warmth of the coffee slides down his throat and spreads through him. Yeah, he definitely would’ve been an idiot to reject this.

“Okay,” he says, mostly to himself, as he puts it down and gets a better grip on his guitar. Making a fast decision, he starts to strum chords, nodding his head slightly to the beat.

“Headin’ down south to the land of the pines

I’m thumbin’ my way into North Carolina