What's this?! Another cliche prompt/trope?!
Enjoy this lil Coffee Shop AU!
NOTE: EDITING
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"Hiya, Sylvie! Could I just get my—"
Busy as you were, you didn't bother to look up from your phone as you told, what you expected it to be, Sylvie your usual order.
You had been frequenting this coffee shop since you had discovered it two years ago. It had been open for another year prior to your discovery of its location.
It was a quaint little place, tucked away in a more quiet spot in your city. Instead of cars housing annoyed drivers, simple people going on about their day usually passed by the cafe windows.
It had an awfully great ambience to do your work in— namely, writing. For the past six months, Sylvie, the barista that usually mans the counter, had witnessed your ongoing journey with your new novel.
The cafe itself wasn't too big, but it wasn't too small either. There was enough space to feel as though the whole room wasn't cramped, but not a whole lot of seats to accommodate large groups of people.
The walls were a shade of pale yellow that was easy on the eyes, that you found to strike inspiration in your little writer's mind. The seats in the cafe were all different from each other, most probably an eclectic collection from different thrift shops in the city that the owner collected.
A light teal accent to everything seemed to accompany the pale yellow walls. There were also paintings done by local artists hung on the walls of the cafe.
Safe to say, the little coffee shop you frequent felt cozy, almost like a safe space to translate your ideas in your head onto paper— well, a laptop screen, more like.
"Oh." You said, stopping in your tracks when you looked up to see that the person behind the counter wasn't Sylvie. She was all blonde and pretty, with always something green on her person.
This person was definitely not Sylvie. He was tall, in all dark clothing, and he had raven hair.
"I'm sorry," you say, fidgeting with your phone. "Is Sylvie in?"
The man behind the counter seem to frown. "No," answered he. "Sylvie quit."
"Sorry?"
"I'm the new hire."
"Oh."
That was odd. You were friends with her. Wouldn't she have told you if she was leaving?
You noted to text her about it later.
"I see." You cleared your throat before telling him your name. "I'm a regular."
The man gave you a polite smile. You could tell he couldn't care less, but was trying to put some effort to the customer service part of his job.
"Could I just get an oat milk latte with cinnamon?"
"Not a problem." He spoke flatly, writing down your name on a cup.
"And your name is?"
The man smirked. "I should've been the one to ask questions like that."
You flashed him a quick smile. "I suppose I beat you to it."
"Loki." He said.
"Pleasure to meet you, Loki." You said with a friendly grin. "If you don't mind, I'll be here quite a lot for quite a long time."
"I'm sure I'll get used to your presence."
-
Almost everyday, Loki would see you come and sit yourself in your usual spot. In the corner, on the rickety thrifted bamboo chair near a particularly sunny corner.
Loki began preparing your drink before you even sat down by the third week he knew you.
By the second month, he would accompany your oat milk latte with a freshly baked croissant on the house.
Today had been a little different though. You didn't sit in your regular corner. Loki's head evidently followed your form as you sat yourself on the bar counter near the register.
"You're here?" Loki spoke, visibly confused.
"Yup." You said opening a document on your laptop, without one idea in your head on how to further the plot.
You sighed in resignation.
"I need human interaction if I'm going to finish this draft on time." Loki tilted his head at your admittance.
He let out a short chuckle. "A distraction, in a way?"
"Please. I'm having the worst writer's block right now."
Loki scanned the cafe, there were three other customers, all busy with their own work. They all had drinks and food, he didn't have to worry about serving them any time soon.
He took off his apron, folding it neatly before placing it on a free shelf behind the counter. Your eyes followed him as he sauntered himself to your side and plopped himself down on a vacant bar stool.
"If you weren't a regular," he spoke while turning to you, resting his elbow on the counter. "I would have ignored you by now."
"Well, isn't that comforting?" You said with an air of sarcasm that pleased him enough to be reminded why he was doing this for you.
"Alright. What did you want to speak about?"
"Nothing in particular," you replied. "Just something to make myself temporarily forget."
"I see," Loki bit his cheek, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. He felt the cogs turn in his brain. "Do you read?"
You nearly had to scoff. "Of course, I do. I have a worrying collection of classic literature."
Loki smiled pleasantly. "We seem to have found common ground."
You tilted your head. "Really? What do you read?" You were subconsciously leaning in, interested in whatever he has to say. You rested your chin on your open palm.
"The romantics and the gothics. Mary Shelley, Oscar Wilde, the Bröntes, Ann Radcliffe— that kind."
You pleasantly hum in response. "Yeah. You do seem to be into those kinds of books."
Loki squinted. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, feigning offense, although it was nothing but playful teasing to keep you on your toes
You grinned cheekily. "I'm sure you know."
"Do you do anything else besides writing?"
"I used to play the violin."
"Aren't you an accomplished being." Loki teasingly cooed.
You rolled your eyes. "Shut up. I was mediocre at best. What about you? Are you anything else aside from being a coffee connoisseur?"
"I do art."
Your eyebrows did a little raise of pleasant surprise. "What kind?"
"Mixed media on canvas. Although, I'm beginning to prefer oil paints these days."
"...Could I see them?"
"All in good time."
You grinned. "Didn't take you as the 'starving artist' type."
"Oh, I'm not." Loki had to laugh. "I could live off of my commissions, trust me. I merely got bored."
You stared at him blankly.
"You got bored?"
Loki gazed at you with mirth behind his eyes. He looked pleased, although you couldn't figure out why. "Yup." He replied, popping the 'P'.
"You're a unique one, Loki."
"I do hope I am."
For a split second, you drifted off into the distance. Your eyes were on Loki, but your thoughts were a mile away. Then, quite unexpectedly... lightbulb.
You grinned brightly as ideas began to flow in your mind once again. The plot seemed to write itself in your head at this point. So, you hastily turned to your laptop to write down its outline as quick as you possibly can, in fear you forget.
Loki had a ghost of a smile on your face as you turned to type on your device. He sensed his assistance had worked, a feeling of accomplishment swelled in his chest at that very moment.
For the very same reason he began giving you freshly baked croissants, he also began indulging you in little conversations when you needed a little cleanse from your incessant writing.
The reason may have stayed the same, but he still couldn't pinpoint what it actually was.
"You know," you say after taking a sip from your drink. It had been two weeks since Loki first obliged your request, and your talks have been proving quite useful when you tried to rid yourself from writer's block. "I should probably credit you in my book at this point."
Loki had been multitasking, juggling with holding up a conversation with you while also preparing a customer's brown sugar espresso latte.
"I wouldn't oppose a little exposure here and there." Loki teased, a familiar wrinkle to his eye appeared as he grinned.
"You're impossible." You shook your head. "And I was about to compliment you then."
His ears perked up, his head tilting curiously. "Oh? Do tell."
You shot him a mischievous look, then shook your head. "I don't think so."
Loki pouted. It was all feigned mockery and no actual sadness in it.
He tuts. "How disappointing."
You rolled your eyes at his antics, but you let out an amused chuckle regardless how absolutely done you were with him.
"I never asked," you spoke, changing the subject. "But, could I have your contact details?"
"You could just say number, dear."
You briefly froze at the sudden pet name, but immediately composed yourself, shaking your head back into reality.
"Yes. That." You replied a little awkwardly. "Only if you're comfortable, though."
Loki was already swiftly writing his phone number on a clean napkin while you were speaking.
"We're friendly enough as it is." He reassured, placing the napkin that held his digits in front of you. "I don't mind."
"Great." You said with a small smile. "Alas, another victim to show shitty memes I laughed at on the internet."
Loki rolled his eyes.
"Good grief."
-
Loki had been waiting.
He had been waiting for 6 days, 9 hours and 35 seconds.
Where the hell were you?
It was incredibly unlike you not to drop by the cafe without a word or even a text. He was getting worried, which was a surprise even to himself.
There were no customers that needed serving as of the moment, all of them were busy with their own stuff to call for Loki for anything. So, he pulled out his phone and opened your private messages, seeing your last text to him was a stupid art related meme you thought he would enjoy. That was two days ago.
Are you dropping by?
Loki texted. He placed down his phone, letting the message simmer as he waited for your response.
One customer left, then the other, and another within an expanse of three hours. Still, you hadn't replied to his message nor have you seen it.
Have you found a better cafe to work in?
I'm kidding.
Obvi.
He sighed, letting another hour pass. New customers walked in, so he busied himself with preparing their orders.
I'm going to eat your "on-the-house croissant" if you don't show up soon.
It was an empty threat. He just really wanted a response from you. An emoji, a reaction— anything.
Loki had to close up shop not long after he sent that message.
Alas, another day without you visiting. It was incredibly peculiar, and it sent anxiety through Loki's spine. Were you okay? He hoped you would be. Were you suddenly cross with him? He hoped you weren't. Did he accidentally give you food poisoning? He definitely prayed he didn't.
Just so he could peacefully slumber, he sent another message. A final one for the day.
I hope you're okay.
He slept that night unsure and uneasy.
Unlucky for him, he dozed off before he could see those three familiar dots on your end of the messages.
-
Like a fucking cannonball, you bust into the cafe doors so intensely, you harbored everybody's attention.
Especially Loki's.
You immediately rush in, not even bothering to sit down as you rambled apologies and unintelligible explanations at Loki.
"I'm sorry! Oh my God, I'm sorry!" You spoke hastily, your eyes sort of wild and filled with worry and sincerity. "I was so busy for the whole week and— and yesterday all I did were meetings with publishers and other important people," you waved a dismissive hand in the air. "I didn't even open my phone until like 2am last night. I'm sorry!"
Loki was definitely taken aback by the sudden dump of information.
"Slow it down," he spoke calmly, hoping that his tone could soothe whatever storm of emotions you were feeling. "What happened? Why were you busy?"
You sighed, catching your breath. "I sealed a deal. I sold my novel."
That brought a smile to Loki's face. His worry was misplaced after all.
"Congratulations, dear."
"Thank you," you breathed, finally sitting yourself down. "I credited you, by the way. Somewhere in the acknowledgements, I mentioned a certain artist-barista that helped me finish the book."
His features softened even further. "That's very kind of you."
"I'm still very very sorry for not giving any word or message." You said. "I saw your messages. You sounded worried."
Loki scoffed lightheartedly. "I was nothing of the sort." His lips nearly pouting as his eyes drifted anywhere but on you.
It made you grin triumphantly.
Loki didn't want to glance at you, no matter the cost. He didn't want to see your smile nor your bright eyes. He had been doing so well in the last few months, not showing you any romantic advances in case it ruins your repertoire as customer and server.
He had been doing so well.
His facade can't crack now.
"I'm grateful though." You said softly.
"Don't get used to it." He said flatly.
It was your turn to pout. Loki made the mistake of glancing at you.
"Aw. And I was getting comfortable then." You rested your chin on your open palm.
Loki sighed. "Aren't you going to work? Settle emails, that kind?"
You shook your head, a pleasant look to your face. "I'm treating myself for the whole week. Absolutely no work and no talk of work."
He was a tad confused. "What are you doing here if you're not doing work?"
You tilted your head at his inquiry. Surely he knew you weren't just visiting the cafe to work. Surely he got the inclination that you actually liked talking to him, regardless of his teasing nature.
"To talk to you." You said it so plainly, yet it weighed so heavy in Loki's heart.
"If this is your way of getting a free pastry, it's not—"
You cut him off by reaching over the counter to place a reassuring touch on his wrist.
"I don't want anything in return. I just wanted to talk to you and thank you because you've been such a great help in finishing my novel. If anything, I should be the one buying you a free pastry as a thank you."
Loki froze as you absentmindedly traced circles on the back of his hand.
God, he was doing so well.
He gulped, just to clear the heavy boulder in his throat.
"If you wanted to talk," said Loki. "I have wine and an extensive collection of unsold pieces at my flat."
You send him a grateful smile that utterly destroyed him.
"You're finally going to show me your work, hm?" You spoke in a teasing tone.
"Just so you finally shut up about it."
You gave him an offended scowl, but there was no true hurt behind your eyes.
"Rude."
Loki chuckled, sending a welcomed warmth through your chest.
"I finish in a few hours. Would that be alright?"
"Not a problem."
As Loki wrapped up his final hours of service for the day, you patiently sat by the counter. You occasionally watched him do his work, taking particular interest in his hands with delicate and slender fingers.
The last hour had been quiet, with you just standing idly by as Loki cleaned up and secured locks on cabinets. Then, he ushered you outside, telling you he was going to lock the main entrance.
Everything felt right, easy even. You wouldn't mind staying in the cafe every day with Loki until he closed up shop.
Loki sighed contentedly, subconsciously asking for you hand.
You grinned giddily as you accepted his offer.
He was actually surprised when he felt your warm hand clutch his, as if he wasn't the one who offered it in the first place.
In his defense, his mind was elsewhere.
"Is this a date?" You asked in a teasing tone.
Loki steeled himself. "Only if you want it to be."
You still had the ghost of that winning smile you gave him earlier. "Seems one sided, don't you think? So, what do you want, Loki?"
He froze.
"I want whatever you're offering me."
Your gaze softened. You squeezed his hand, reassuring him that he doesn't have to take any scraps of love he thought you'd only give him.
"And if I offer you my heart?"
Loki smiled, gently bringing your hand up to his lips.
"Then, I shall gladly accept."