Sanders Sides Oneshots

A Poet And A Barista

Virgil stared lazily out of the window, holding the coffee cup up to his lips, but not sipping from it, lost in thought. He took the same seat, at the same time, every day. Sitting before him was a notebook, filled with poems and plans. Yes, Virgil was a poet. At least, he tried to be. He had taken up poetry a long time ago, to help work through his depression back when he was fourteen. Yeah, he had been the classic r/imfourteenandthisisdeep boy. But, unluckily for him, it hadn't left. And, now, he was a college graduate, who wrote angsty poems and worked for his parent's' accountancy company after failing to become an author. He always failed.

Sighing, Virgil turned away from the window, eyes fluttering closed as he gently sipped at his black coffee. The cafe was filled with a moderate hum of chatter and Virgil smiled softly as he listened into conversations, placing down his coffee cup with a small sigh.

Glancing down at his notebook, he stared at his latest poem. It wasn't as dark as his other ones, which often related to... violent coping methods. No, this poem was about an anxiety attack he had when he tried to convince himself to come out to his parents. What had provoked the foolish idea of coming out to his parents?

The man who just walked in.

Virgil didn't know his name. Virgil didn't what he was interested in or how old he was. But Virgil knew he was fucking amazing to look at.

The man was greeted by the other workers, who called him 'Princey'. It was probably a nickname. One of the workers began to chastise him for being late and Virgil sighed, lowering his head and shutting his eyes as he listened to the mans' awkward laugh. It was a beautiful laugh.

The poet exhaled slowly, raising his coffee to his lips and sipping at it gently. Black coffee was an underappreciated treasure.

Placing down the mug, Virgil continued to write his poem in scruffy, swoopy writing. His 'y's looped along with his 'g's. His 't's looked a little like a '4', and his 'o's would sometimes resemble a heart. Embarrassing, yes, but people were convinced his handwriting was elegant and beautiful. Virgil reached for his coffee again when someone dropped something. He started at the sudden noise, some coffee spilling to the ground beside him. With a groan, he hid his face in one hand, slamming the mug beside him, managing not to get coffee on the table. Maybe he should just go early...

.:*:.

Roman was ushered behind the bar by a lecturing Logan when he caught sight of the most beautiful person in the room, excluding himself. Dark purple hair, pale skin, a hoodie with plaid, purple patches and a small, rainbow ribbon pinned into his jeans high by his thigh. God, he was pretty. The other was sipping softly from his coffee, eyes closed lightly, and he placed it back down to stare at the book he was always writing in. Then Patton dropped a plate just he went to drink his coffee again and it spilt to the floor.

"Logan, quick, grab me the mop!" Roman hissed, spinning around.

"What? Why would you want a mop?"

The barista pointed eagerly to where the pool of steaming coffee lay beside the table of an emo writer. Logan sighed impatiently, having already heard enough of Roman's' future weddings planned with a man he didn't even know. "It's in the closet, don't freak him out."

"You got this!" Patton promised, using a small brush and pan to sweep up the mess while Logan covered orders.

Roman eagerly hopped around the counter, walking as quickly and as calmly as he could to the spillage. The man seemed to be leaving ten minutes early today and he was putting in earbuds and selecting a song. The playlist he was on seemed custom, and it was tilted, 'Dark-ish songs, mostly heathers'. The first song that played when he hit shuffle play was 'Dead Girl Walking'.

He can pull a 'Dead Girl Walking' on me, anytime, Roman thought.

As the other began to gather up his book, Roman actually got to work, shooting subtle glances his way. Damn, he was pretty. Like, really pretty, especially up close like this. He should say something, the man's caught his eye now. Shit, he's just staring at him. He looks really, uncomfortable, I need to say something.

"Just saw you were listening to Heathers," He improvised, thankful that his years in theatre stopped a gay panic. "Dead Girl Walking, huh?" The guy turned slightly pink behind white foundation and Roman decided it was going well. Let's through in a compliment. "I like your hair, it's really cute."

"Thanks, I grew it myself-" The man quickly clamped a hand over his mouth, panicked.

Roman laughed trying to make the other more comfortable. Still mopping, he smiled. "What's your name, JD-lightful?"

"JD."

"Really?!"

'JD' snorted. "Of course not. My name is my business, Veronica, and I'll see you next time." He saluted cockily, swinging a now packed bag over his shoulder and walked out.

Roman slouched over the mop with a dreamy sigh. "I'm in trouble if that's how psychopaths who'd kill a bunch of people then try to blow up the school look these days."

"Roman, get your ass back to work!" Logan yelled ungraciously.

Way to kill the mood...

.:*:.

"Nice to see ya, JD," Teased Roman when the person who finished ordering stepped aside to reveal someone very familiar. His jeans were just as tight as yesterday, his jacket was the same and his smirk was heavenly.

"Hello, Veronica." There was a moment of silence as the other scanned briefly over the board above Roman, probably double-checking his order. "When does your shift end? You usually leave early on Sundays."

Roman raised an eyebrow, smirking coyly. "Well, that's an interesting observation. It ends in ten minutes, I was going to take a few more orders and go."

"Cool. What would you recommend from here?" He asked, pointing up to the board.

Let's be honest, Roman's' coworkers and the people behind 'JD' were picking up on this faster than Roman. A small group of girls standing behind the customer began giggling and whispering. Patton gave Roman a smirk.

"Um... Probably the Caramel Mocca. It's my favourite."

The emo nodded. "Cool, I'll have a Caramel Mocca and a black coffee ready in ten minutes?"

Roman tilted his head. "You meeting someone?"

"Only if you say yes, Veronica."

Oh. Oh. Roman stared at 'JD', wide-eyed. "Sure, 'f course, um. Yeah, I can do that, uh, anything else?"

He shrugged graciously. "I dunno, not exactly hungry. You?"

"I-I mean, one of those cupcakes on the counter would be nice-"

"Cool, I'll buy it too. Which one?"

"That one?"

'JD' rolled his eyes. "Of course you want that one. Alright, Veronica. Bring it over in ten minutes and then we can talk. Sound good?"

"Mhm!" His voice cracked. That was embarrassing.

Despite Roman dying of embarrassment, the emo seemed to find it funny. His smirk grew slightly and he gave a cocky salute. "Bye, Veronic-uh!" He said, jokingly pronouncing the name like Kurt in the song 'Our Love Is God'.

The girls behind him walked up to the counter. One of them wiggled her eyebrows. "He's cute!"

"And very charming!" Another added. "You like him!"

"Tell me something I don't know," Mumbled Roman, trying to hide his furious blush by glaring down at the till as he finished sending in the order.