Coffee Boy [Septiplier]

ten weeks [1]

Ten weeks is the amount of time I have been working as an intern.

Ten weeks is what took for me to get the hang of everything that deals with coffee runs and women.

However, ten weeks is what it took for Mark Fischbach to ask for a coffee. It came out of the blue, seriously. It was a regular day for me asking everyone what they want and how they wanted it. It kept me on my toes and it was a job that is easier said than done. Especially if the orders get messed up.

The cold air of Seattle made me shiver as I zipped up my jacket. As I got in line, I sighed and tried to find my phone to mess around on it. The line moved leisurely slow and every day my patience was running thinner and thinner as time passed. When I did get most of the orders my mind blanked as I thought of what to order for... him.

Then I just blurted out something that I liked in hopes that Mark would enjoy it as much as I would. Ordering it hot instead of iced just kind of happened. It was weird since most people in the office prefer iced during this cold season. Which is odd anyways.

As I got back to the women and men working at an extremely tiring rate they all rushed to get their coffee. The same girl who called my first name earlier looked at the last coffee in the tray and looked back up to me. It was rude considering the fact she was giving me a certain look.

"For Mark I assume?" I nod, not wanting to particularly say anything to her. She gives me another weird look.

"Stop looking at me like that and say what's on your mind." I tell her, my accent coming through rudely and most likely loud. She stops and bites her lip.

"I just never heard of Mark coming out of his office and telling an intern to get him a coffee. I mean, what if the front desk won't let you go to his floor?" She questions. Although, she brings up a good point I'm sure I will be fine. It's just to give him this coffee anyways, right?

"We will see," I sigh and lean one of my hands on her dull colored desk. I take a deep breath and she continues to try and make me more nervous than I am already.

"Who knows? Maybe it's more than that, maybe he wants you." She winks at me and my whole face is blank.

"Honey, it's not fifty shades of grey." She held up her hands in surrender.

"I know. If I'm being honest though, since when have you heard about Mark and a women? N-e-v-e-r." She spelled out, making me laugh a bit.

"Very true. Now stop making me nervous and do your job." I order her and she smiles at me before getting back to a huge pile of paper work on her desk.

I go up to the desk and tell the lady sitting there about the coffee and she's standing up to look at my outfit. Since wearing jeans and a jacket in a huge business like this wasn't something professional, she was hesitant to let me go. "Make it quick." She told me.

I moved to the elevator with the coffee and feel the elevator rise higher and higher, towards the very top of the building. Looking towards the windows makes my stomach turn as I see how high up I was. I grip the coffee tighter in my hand as it's making my hand redder by the second. I notice only two rooms, one had glass walls- it looked like a meeting room. The other room had two huge double doors, some blue color painted on the walls and the doors are extremely white. It looks as if they haven't been touched. My heart stops as the door opens and a few women and a man starts to walk out.

The women never make eye contact towards me as they giggle towards one another and reach the elevator to leave. The man, who seems to be a foot taller than me, is talking to Mark as I spot his bright red hair by the door. He never leaves his own office as he says a goodbye to this one guy. Ironically, just like in books, he bumps me and says a quick sorry before I even have time to react. He leaves just like that and I start to curse as some coffee drips onto my hand.

"Shit, shit, shit. Fuck. What the fuck?" I ask myself. Better words could of been used but thats what came out of my mouth.

"You okay there? Cursing like that is obnoxious." Mark exclaims, noticing the spilled coffee on my hand and dripping onto the floor. He curses to himself, as well. He tries to grab me to help me and I take a step back. Mark notices my hesitation and crosses his arms over his chest.

"You quite finished?" I ask, watching him tilt his head to the side.

"Can I have my coffee you spilled or do you want help first?" I was taken back by this, noticing that I was, in fact, super rude to him just now.

"Take it now," I shove the coffee in his hands and he accepts it with a thank you.

"Want me to help with your hand, like, doesn't it hurt?" He asks, pulling on my hand and bringing it to his face to examine it.

"Yeah it hurts a bit. Kiss it better for me, yeah?"I sarcastically say. Hoping to catch him off guard.

Then he actually kisses my burnt hand, which makes me embarrassed that he actually did it. I look down towards the floor, having my green hair cover my eyes, and hopefully covering my flushed cheeks. It was like something out of a Disney movie, the prince kissing the damsel in distress.

"I-I um, I didn't actually mean it." I tried to tell Mark.

He chuckles and says, "I know, Sean." Mark saying my name in his American accent was mesmerizing, it sounded perfect coming from him. He doesn't let go of my hand, yet he continues to talk to me. "So, you came all the way from Ireland to attend college here?" He questions me, almost like he knew my whole life story. I stutter out a yes, not wanting to look into his eyes, or his face for this matter.

"Hm, I see." I finally look up to see him staring at me and it makes the air feel strained. It was quiet considering he had the whole top floor to himself.

I don't question him when he keeps holding onto my hand and brings me into his office that was probably six dorm rooms combined, and that's only the room for his desk and chairs, not to mention the black couch sitting before his desk. A few more white doors were placed on the walls to present more rooms. What more could he have?

"How old are you?" Mark asks all nonchalantly. I retort the question back to him and he raises his eyebrows while looking at me. I stop and think if I said it in a rude way, it was hard to tell. I couldn't read Mark at all. He had a calm aura around him and never was taken aback by anything.

"I am twenty-nine, Sean." He sits in his chair behind his desk and takes a sip of the coffee I got him. He gives me no expression to show if he likes or dislikes what I got for him. Out of a nervous habit I grabbed a pen off his desk and tap it on my thigh. It made a small noise and Mark didn't seem to mind.

I finally answer his question, "I'm only nineteen, turning twenty in February." Mark brings his hand in front of his face and leans on it. "Is that so?" Another question directed towards me.

"You look much older, Sean."

He said it again.

I hum a 'mhm', not wanting to say anything.

Moving his hands once more he looked upon the folder that was sitting neatly on his clean desk. I stand still, then I move to sit down in a comfy chair that's in front of his desk. His eyes look up towards me, pen still hitting my thigh and me slouching in the chair.

"Sit up straight and stop doing that tapping out of habit, please." He orders me and I obediently follow his orders. He gives me a smirk and says a quiet thank you.

"Sean," he speaks again, using his lovely accent, "why a pumpkin latte, hmm?"

I want to die.

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A/n: Here is the first chapter of this fan fic! I hope you enjoy. I cannot wait to write more and I hope I can update every week, possibly twice, if high school would give me a break! I will try and provide a song I listened to while writing. I suggest you listen to the song while reading.

Vote and comment your thoughts, please!!

thank you for reading ~