Sweater Weather~BillDip fanfiction (BoyxBoy) UNDER CONSTRUCTION

All I am

Everyday is the same with few variations, and that's the way I like it. I like the order, the structure, it's something I can depend on. Well... It was something I could depend on. But September 22nd something happened that changed the routine completely, and I'll be honest, I didn't hate it. 

Every morning I wake up at 5am, I brush my teeth and pick out an outfit, I walk downstairs to my coffee shop "Koffee Kid?" in honor of someone I lost long ago. I think about them all the time, every day, and since I gave up my old ways I have no idea where they are, how they are, or if they're even alive. So all I can do is keep their memory alive within myself. Then I start to do what I do best, make coffee. I take my house blend and put up more than a few pots of it, decaf and regular. I wipe down the tables once again and I sanitize the piano that sits on a platform next to the door. What? What kind of person would I be if I didn't allow music in this artists playground? Once the first pot of coffee stops brewing I make myself a cup using it. Disgusting... As the first pot of coffee always is. I empty it out and start again. While the second pot finishes I dump it and repeat the process. Round two of coffee is brewing and I go into the back to check on the inventory. I don't offer a lot of pastry options but I would be an idiot not to offer any. As the second round of coffee finishes I place the blankets next to the shoe rack and I unlock the door. 7:05 exactly. Yes it really takes me that long, you can't rush perfection. 

I walk to the counter and pour myself a cup, not that I really need it, I've never experienced  lethargy or tiredness. I leaned against the back counter, holding the scolding cup with both hands. Sometimes I have mornings like this. Where I get to enjoy the calm before the storm.

I hate those mornings. 

I think about that person. I think, "Is it all worth it?", giving up my entire life just to live how they did? I convince myself I'm over them, that they wouldn't talk to me if their life depended on it. I agonize at the thought that I can barely remember their face. Their sharp jaw, or was it round... Their perfect smile... Or was it unique and quirky. I just can't remember anymore. 

I close my eyes and take a big whiff of my coffee. The perfect drug. 

As I get lost in my thoughts of them, scanning my memory to see if I can remember their face, their body, anything, the door slams open. They opened the door with such force that the glass rattled violently. 

"If you broke that it would've cost you a lot more than a cup of coff-"

"Sorry." 

What?

"I was, I just-i just got here."

Here? Here from where? 

"I saw, coffee? Koh-fee?" 

He's out of breath.

"I really didn't mean to startle you.." 

It's all so familiar. Why can't I bring myself to look at you? Look up, nothing can hurt you. 

I looked up from my cup and saw him. Tall, broad shoulders, overgrown brown hair. I don't recognize this person at all. 

I cocked my head to the the right, "I'm sorry, I seemed to miss that." 

I came out from the counter and stood in front of him. Just to make sure...

If I'm 5'10, and he's taller than me... Well how much taller? Not that much, I'm considerably tall! The door, use the door for reference. 

"Is everything alright?"

I moved behind him and licked my thumb, I followed my hand from the top of the back of his head to the door and stamped my thumb on the glass. I'll measure it later. 

"Look, if I caused you any trouble-"

"Trouble? Who said that? It's nice to have some chaos around here, in this business you don't get a lot of it." 

This seemed to comfort him because he stepped onto the main floor. I winced and cleared my throat. I went back and forth between looking at his shoes, the shoe rack, and my own feet. This went on for a couple seconds. It definitely can't be them, they were much smarter, would've known almost instantly what I meant. 

"Oh!" He finally got it.

He sat on the floor and removed his sneakers. Size 12, pretty good. 

"So- uh what's the deal with shoes?" he asked nervously in between struggling to remove his shoes. His laces must be tight, he didn't untie them so he must be particular with the pressure from his shoe. 

"I want this place to feel like home. I want people to solicit. They don't have to buy anything, I just want them to feel welcomed, like they have space."

"Ah..."

"Also if they don't pay or try to steal from me they won't get very far without their shoes." 

He laughed, interesting, I'll see how I feel about that as time goes on. 

"You're pretty funny."

"Thanks?" 

"I, uh, really need some coffee."

"I assumed so, I mean this is a coffee shop."

He smirked, "I could've come for a pastry or just to rest, you did say you wanted people to solicit." 

Interesting, not only the smirk, but he challenged my comment. 

"You also almost broke my door asking for coffee, so." 

"Right... I can pay if it causes you trouble later on."

"Don't worry about it, it'll add a rustic charm." 

We both stifled some nervous laughter as I went back to my station and he approached the counter. 

"So what do you suggest?" 

He leaned on the counter. The counter is 36 inches, that's quite a way to lean. Maybe he's taller than I thought? 

I squinted at the door, looking at my thumb print. Maybe he's way taller than I think? 

"Maybe, a..." I need to focus, he probably thinks I'm a maniac. "Espresso?" 

He laughed, I don't think I'll get used to that.

"Sure."

"Sure? Do you not want it? I can make you anything?"

He's laughing harder, why? What's happening?

"I've never had anything more than a regular cup of coffee. So I don't know what that is, but if you say it's good..." he touched my hand, "I'll believe you." 

I quickly turned around. I need to make this, but I can't calm down. I can't place this feeling. What's this feeling? How am I supposed to react? I'm sure it's not them but then again what do I know? I don't remember anything...

"Hey, are you okay?" 

I spun around and smiled, "Yeah! I just realized, I need a name for the order."

He looked around, "I'm the only one in here though."

"Well if someone comes in, then you won't be."

He thought about it, then smiled. 

"So? Your name?"

"Mason."

No...

My hand shook violently as I wrote on the ceramic mug with an Expo Marker. "Right... Mason... It'll be ready soon. Please, make yourself comfortable..." 

I don't recognize that name at all...