On the House (Hvitserk - Vikings)

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*Modern!Hvitserk*

"Sorry that took so long," He walked over to the small table by the wall. His dark blond hair was tucked back into a bun, his eyes sweet and apologetic.

"Pardon?" You looked up at the tall man lingering by your table. Gesturing forward with the large mug, he placed the coffee that you had ordered down on the table. "Oh, right, my coffee. Uh, thank you..." The name on his tag would be impossible to pronounce.

"Hvitserk." He smiled proudly.

"Right, Hvitserk. Well, thanks." You return his smile.

Every morning was the same routine, at least since Hvitserk had began working here four months ago. You would bustle in, order the same things – dark roast, black and a blueberry muffin. If blueberry wasn't available then it was straight to the oatmeal apple. Each morning that you came in, laptop case in hand, scuttling away to the same table; you hadn't bothered to notice the man watching from behind the counter.

Standing a little longer than required, Hvitserk rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, his black Chuck Taylor's making no sound against the polished floor. Glancing up from the latest column that you were writing, your brow raised, and your annoyance evident.

"Yes?"

Hvitserk licked his lips, drawing your attention to the sparse blond facial hair which made him look a little like a hyperactive puppy, his eyes were settled on you. Right! you thought, how stupid of you; he was waiting for a tip. Before you could reach for your purse, Hvitserk spoke again.

"Do you want to have dinner with me?" Hvitserk's question was bold.

"Excuse me?" You were startled by what you'd heard. How could someone be so bold? What was saying you didn't have a partner? Or that you would be bothered with him? For all either of you knew, the other could be a crazed murderer.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Don't bother answering that," Hvitserk held up his hands as he slowly backed off from the table.

"Now wait just a minute," Your curled your index finger, beckoning him to draw closer. "Why would you ask me that? And what makes you think I don't want to go?"

"Well," Hvitserk rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously, "I see you in here, a lot, and I can't help but notice you seem..." How did he put this nicely. "Lonely. Maybe you're not and you can tell me to fuck off at any time, but I just want to get to know the woman I see every day."

Hvitserk was good.

You wouldn't go as far as saying you were lonely, but it wouldn't hurt to have a new friend.

"For your information, I have lots of things going on." You straightened your posture. Hvitserk smirked. "And second, pick me up at 7?"

"Really?" Hvitserk was shocked that his approach had actually worked.

"Yes, really. Give me your phone, I'll text you my details. Seven, sharp, do not be late!" You smirked, taking his phone and adding your information.

"Got it, I won't be late." Hvitserk replied continuing to rock back and forth on his feet. Glancing over his shoulder, he hoped his boss wasn't watching and waiting to chew him out. Finding the coast clear, he took his phone back and winked. "By the way, consider this morning on the house. My treat." 

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