{Star Trek One-Shots}

Painted Roses (Barista!Jim Kirk x Artist!Reader) [Request!]

*Requested on Tumblr :)*

You didn't know when you first started coming to the quaint little coffee shop on the corner of your block, and you didn't know when you started making a habit out of it. Once or twice a month turned into several times a week, and then suddenly you were there for several hours a day to work on your projects. You found the atmosphere warm and inviting, as opposed to your cramped apartment down the street that you could barely afford.

Yes, you were a starving artist. But that didn't make your art any less meaningful. Ever since the first day you had been coming, you had your table. It was the smaller booth in the corner by one of the large windows overlooking the park and the busy street. It was also dotted with paint marks, but the owner didn't seem to mind.

It was the barista, though, that caught your eye. Every single day, he was there ready with one of your usuals. You never drank coffee, it was usually tea or hot chocolate. He usually chose for you, but you didn't mind. Whatever he made tasted delicious. You always ordered 'for here', enjoying the cute, white mugs with the pretty art he made with the cream in your hot chocolate or with the honey in your tea. It was different every day, sometimes a flower, or a cute face, and one time he made an elaborate heart with swirls and sprinkles which made you blush as you thanked him.

On days you were really working hard, you were there from opening to closing now and again, he would bring you refills and sometimes small deserts. You would pull your headphones back and thank him, smiling as he would rub the back of his neck, bashful. You thought it was cute.

In fact, you thought he was cute all the time. On days you weren't really working on big pieces you would just pull out your sketchbook and draw the people around you, but mainly it was him, dressed in his black apron and a collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You would draw him from various angles; walking with the serving platters filling both his hands, smiling at a customer, washing things in the sink: rough sketches of him filled many pages in your book.

Other days, you would decide to paint outside in the park in the morning to get practice with realistic nature, get covered in paint, and then head over to the coffee shop for your afternoon drink. It was on these days that you felt the most insecure since you were in your painting overalls and your old vintage Queen T-shirt underneath and you were covered in various colors and stages of dried paint. There was even paint in your hair or on your face sometimes, and the barista (who, after you finally took notice of his nametag, was named Jim) would kindly point it out to you. You would get red in the face and frantically try to wipe it off, getting more paint on your already paint-splattered hands; it was all just a mess.

Today was not one of those days, though; today you were working in your sketchbook, doodling and working on drawing people. You came in early, some twenty minutes after they had opened. Jim was there as you walked in, beaming as you walked up to the counter.

"Hey," he greeted, pushing a mug full of steaming cocoa up to you.

You peeled your headphones back to rest on your neck as you pulled out some wrinkled dollar bills. You frowned. You didn't realize how low you had been getting on money and you knew exactly where it had all been going. Nonetheless, you put a smile on your face and slid the money across the counter to him.

"Hey," you returned the hello, lifting the mug from the counter. "What's my drink of the day today?"

"Well, we just got some new teas in so I thought I fix one up for you," he replied. "This one is Chamomile Citrus, with three swirls of honey just how you like it."

You smiled, pink dusting your cheeks. "Thanks, Jim."

Your blush deepened as his face reddened up at the sound of his name coming from your lips. It was the first time you had ever called him by name, and you felt like he liked it. He did.