Is This A Date?

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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."

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