Let The Grass Grow (Leon x OC)

Chapter 2 - Tea

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good place - kathleen regan

atomized - andrew bird

shrike - hozier

the only boy awake - meadows

life's just begun - kate york

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Quinn was sipping a Wyndon Fog tea latte at the Cuppa Munna cafe in Wedgehurst.

The Cuppa Munna was normally closed at this hour, but Leon's Home Town Hero star power was strong enough to make some exceptions.

Leon was told by the owner that they may stay as long as they wished. He granted them free run over the cafe's numerous equipment and syrups as long as they closed the shop before leaving.

Cuppa Munna had become a tourist attraction since Leon won the Gym Challenge. Fans would drive long distances to sit where he sat (an ancient green chair with cracked leather) and drink what he drank (a frothy green concoction that was considerably more dessert than coffee).

Quinn assumed that the increased foot traffic — and profit — made the owner more than happy to relinquish Leon the keys to Wedgehurst's lone cafe. A dangerous decision given the past Champion's inability to keep track of himself, let alone a modest set of keys. Quinn did them both a favor by hanging them on the front door alongside the Sorry! We Are Closed sign, but from inside the coffee shop, the sign read: We're Open!

Quinn and Leon were sitting on the same side of a low oak table, sharing a velvet fainting couch. Leon's green armchair sat alone and neglected on the other side of the cafe. He'd gone completely off-script that night. He was not drinking his usual frappuccino, opting instead for a plain Galar breakfast tea. This was for a simple reason. Leon hadn't a single clue how to make his complicated frappuccino, and without the barista there to do it for him, he'd been forced to go with his second option.

"You can handle making a tea by yourself, yeah?" Quinn had teased him. "I'd hope so. I mean, even a Mankey could do it."

"That's rude to Mankeys," Leon had said.

Fortunately for him, he managed to put a tea bag into a mug of boiling water without any significant incident. Now, he was pouring an obscene amount of sugar into his tea, forming a tall hill of white granules at the bottom of his cup.

"So," Leon said as he poured, "it really just broke?"

"Yep," Quinn nodded. "Straight in half. Like a karate board."

"That's a shame. We made a lot of good memories on that thing."

"We sure did," said Quinn, "And it all culminated with my arse hitting the ground. Hard."

Leon laughed his loud laugh. He'd never been able to control the volume of his laughter, even as a child. It was especially deafening when he was laughing at something he found genuinely amusing, and comedy at Quinn's expense was one of those things.

"Man, what I would've given to see that," he said.

"Hey," she deadpanned, "don't laugh at my pain."

"Oh, c'mon, now," he countered, raising an eyebrow. "As if you wouldn't do the same if it was me."

He was absolutely right. And there was a track record of twenty-four years of her laughing at him — many times when he was in pain — to back up this claim.