Ethan Nestor One Shots and Imagines

gelato

an: ic/f means ice cream flavor

His eyes seared into my brain before I even noticed anything else about him.

I was scooping gelato for countless amounts of beach goers that afternoon, each face as forgetable as the last. The sun was reaching its peak, but the numerous fans blasting air to keep the ice cream cool sufficed in making anyone behind the counter cool as well. Although I was comfortable in my cold environment, I could still see the sweat glistening on all of the customers' faces as soon as they walked through the door. The sun outside was shinging in through the glass doors, casting everything in a bright, yellow light. It reflected off the tables, catching on the framed pictures of Italian scenery we had pinned up behind the counter. The owner of the shop felt it necessary to make the whole place feel as though it was Italy; a customer would walk in and instanly think they had teleported to Venice. Unfortunately, the true effect was just a whole bunch of Italian-themed pictures plastered over every wall.

It was almost the end of my shift, and I was staring at the clock, practically willing it to turn five more minutes in a matter of seconds. Standing behind the counter for hours a day was a relatively boring summer job. I tapped my fingers against the glass doors keeping warm air out of the gelato display, making a rhythmic tapping noise with my nails. A long sigh escaped my lips.

The bell jingled, and a group of three people walked into the store. One was taller than the other two, with a strong jawline and a mess of curls tucked into a hat. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he continued his conversation with one of the other guys, this one talking very animatedly. He had dark hair that fell to one side, so he had to keep pushing it up and away.  He wore a muscle tank, not necessarily to show off his arms, but just because it was hot outside and he could. The last guy looked up and made eye contact with me, and I was lost.

His eyes were round and and kind with pale eyelashes lining them. The green and brown hues chased each other around his iris, from far away seeming like they were completely combined in a light amber color. For some reason, his eyes struck me and I couldn't stop staring. He reached up and pushed his hair back, interrupting my view and pulling me out of my lulled state. His hair was a vibrant blue on top, his natural coloring a dark brown on the sides.

"Damn I don't know what I want." He murmured to his tall friend. His eyes scanned the display before flicking back up to meet mine. "What are your best flavors?" He asked me. I shook my head a bit to bring myself back to reality before I answered.

"Uh, like customer favorites or personal?" He shrugged.

"Maybe both?" Why was his voice cute as well? It was making me all flustered.

"Customer favorites are the ones with the lowest amount of gelato." I began simply. "My personal favorites are ic/f, ic/f, and ic/f."

"Huh." His eyes went back to the display.

"You can also get multiple flavors." I said quickly. The guy with the dark, floppy hair spoke up first.

"I'm just gonna be boring and get a small chocolate in a cup."

"You got it." I scooped the gelato into a cup and placed it on top of the counter. The tall guy was next.

"Just a small vanilla for me. In a cup, please." The guy with the blue hair teased him.

"That's even more boring that Mark's." He commented with a small laugh. The tall guy brushed him off.

"Never sleep on the classics."

"Anything else?" I asked the group.

"Yeah I'm getting something," blue guy said, "just can't decide what..."

"Don't forget about the multiple flavors option." I suggested timidly. His eyes lit up with decision.

"Perfect. In that case, I'll get the ic/f, mint, and the espresso." I nodded.

"Good choices." I pulled down a cup. "Cup not cone, right?"

"Yep." For some reason, he flashed me a small smile. I returned it and hoped that my blushing wasn't too intense or obvious. I didn't ever recall being this enamored with a customer before. The ice cream scooper in my hand shook a bit due to my unstable grip, but luckily for me the heat from the day had made the gelato soft. Once finished with getting all of the flavors into the cup, I reached over the top of the display and handed it to him. When he took it, our fingers touched for a split second. My face heated up more than it had before.

"Thanks." He said after taking it. I nodded as a response; words didn't seem to be working at the current moment.

"Is that everything for you guys today?" I asked. The short guy with the dark hair was about to answer, but blue guy cut him off.

"One more thing, actually." Was it just me, or were his cheeks taking on a rosy tone? "Can I have a number? I mean, you number?" He stuttered out. No point in hiding my blushing now.

"Can do." I agreed.