Perfect

Chapter 1: Merlin

Merlin watched from behind the counter as the tall, blonde jock walked into the Starbucks. Merlin noted that he looked vaugely familiar,  they both went to Southdale (or, as it was affectionately refferered, ShitDick) high, maybe? Either way, he was kinda... cute? His blonde hair was sticking out from under a beanie and swooped over his eyes. He was wearing a letter jacket, the back decorated lavishly with patches from what Merlin imagined was every sport in existence. He was still shivering slightly from the cold-as-balls weather outside but immediately brightened up as he heard the cheery christmas music playing over the shop's loudspeakers. He was perfect in every way. Except, of course, for the pretty cheerleader holding onto his arm. The sterotypical couple stood in line, giggling loudly and seemingly madly in love. Merlin was disappointed, but promised himself that he would get over it soon enough. It was only a handsome stranger, after all. He tried to focus on mixing peppermint frappachinos and mocha double-whip lattes, but to no avail. He couldn't keep his eyes off the blond jock. Finally, the stranger and his companion (Girlfriend, merlin insisted to himself. He's got to be taken.) got to the cash register. The blond boy ordered for the girl, a seemingly memorized list of add ins and substitutions to make some bizzare, incredibly extra drink. The jock stuck with a simple black coffee for himself. "And what name can i put the order under?" Merlin asked, sharpie hovering over the red paper cup. "Arthur," the boy said with what Merlin liked to imagine was a hint of a smile playing on the edges of his lips. "Arthur," Merlin repeated. "That's a nice name. Do you have a name t-to go with that number? I mean, FUCK, ummm, n-nevermind." With a face as red as the cup he was holding, Merlin scurried off to make the coffee, eager to end this awkward ordeal as soon as humanly possible.