C'est Toi • Shawn Mendes (Coffee Shop AU)

Chapter THREE

Friday - January 18, 2019 - 23:40

I asked for his name today. Oh, God. I asked him for his name.

—

Ella and I found ourselves stuck in the rain again. We coincidentally were on our way to Brightside to do some studying to free up our time over the weekend. And just like the first time, we stumbled into the coffee shop, except this time we were both laughing with smiles on our face.

The warmth of the coffee shop eased the goosebumps on my arms, but nothing compared to the warmth I felt when I heard a melodic Canadian accent call out my name.

I turned away from Ella's glistening eyes and wiggling eyebrows as she put her bag down on a table across from the register––she didn't know I had a usual spot––but this table was a bit larger so it would fit both of our books while we studied. His eyes followed me with each step I took up to the counter.

On the outside, I was still shivering from the rain, but on the inside, I was burning up like a furnace, "H–Hi."

He let out a short laugh that had his eyes crinkling, "Got stuck in the rain again?"

I picked up a napkin from behind the counter to dry my hands off, "Unfortunately," He let out another laugh even though I didn't say anything particularly funny.

"Not as soaked as last time though," He smiled as he took a yellow cup from the stack, he momentarily broke eye contact with me to write my name on the cup. He was in the middle of writing the 'e' when he looked up at me through his eyelashes and gave me a warm smile, "I'll bring it over to you," he held up the cup and set it down on the counter as he looked over my shoulder to the table where Ella was sitting at.

I shook my head, "I can't have you do that."

The gesture was sweet, but I savored the moments when I walked up to the counter. Whenever I walked up, I wanted to bottle up the euphoric sensation that slowly built up and then burst through my entire body. There was never a time where I was not nervous walking up to him, but the thrill I felt while talking with him felt like nothing I had experienced before. And I wanted to keep it alive.

Mendes took a yellow cup from the stack and waved me off as he walked toward the espresso machine, "Go sit."

"That's––"

"Sit," he said sternly, "Looks like you have a lot of studying to do." His face softened.

With a nod, I took out your credit card and waved it in the air, "I still have to pay though."

It took a minute for Mendes to comprehend what I had said before he chuckled to himself and walked back over to the register, "If you hadn't said a thing I would've let you go."

"That's not very fair," I touched the card on top of the contactless payment machine, "Then you wouldn't get paid."

"Touché."

It was silent between us, my payment complete, and Mendes looking at me with a peculiar stare paired with an endearing smile. This is it, I mentally hyped myself up, ask for his name.

I broke our eye contact and released a shaky breath. I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, "So––You like––Um––"

Mendes seemed interested in what I was going to say, but the thrill of excitement now felt like bile in my stomach. I can do this––I have to do this. But just when I was about to continue on with rambling, both of our heads turned toward someone who was hiding behind a stack of coffee cups and lids, stumbling forward.