Coffee and a Million Other Drinks

Autumn and a Million Other Seasons

Blank didn’t come to the cafe after that.

Froyo figured that would be the case, so she resigned herself to just carrying on like normal--not forgetting him, she could never forget him.
She didn’t dare ask Moon for a backstory; not when she was working more than usual and every ring of the bell above the door had her looking up, eyes hopeful, and being disappointed when seeing it was another customer or Grandma Chiyo, with her long knitted scarf that touched the ground.
But never a blonde whose hair was as fluffy as he was inside.

Moon wasn’t the only one hoping.

Even after a month since Blank’s last appearance Froyo still searched for him on his usual times, even abandoning her book in favor of searching the sidewalk, just in case he passed by. It got to the point that even Grandma Chiyo was looking out in case she spotted him, eventually Froyo stopped looking for him.

That’s why when September rolled in, with a parade of sunset reds and oranges, Froyo was very much more than surprised to see him roll with it. With his dark blue-gray sweater, faded black denim jeans and combat boots, his hair was fluffed up even more because of a beanie.
Fro wanted to pinch his flushed freckled cheeks, wanted to punch his arm, wanted to ask him “where have you been?” and “what do want to drink, it’s on me fam!” and “I missed you!”

Froyo said none of those.
Instead she waited behind the counter, unable to do anything else but finish off the two hot chocolates and set off to make their season special for the small family that was waiting on her.
It was a lot colder now since Blank had last been in, with the summer menu chiller drinks all tied up for the year, and it was only then that Froyo realised Blank hadn’t tried any of the drinks that she had created for her. She couldn’t help but wonder what Blank’s favourite flavour was now. Maybe pumpkin spice. Maybe cinnamon, maybe ginger.
Or maybe he was back to drinking caramel lattes and had been getting his fix from one of the many chain coffees on the high street, and he had simply walked into the wrong café by mistake.
But Blank joins the queue like a good customer and Froyo feels like her mouth is stuffed with cotton. With each patron served, and the space between them diminishing, Froyo’s anxiety grows, until it’s the blonde standing at the counter, warm and fluffy, and nothing like the coldness that Eijiro was familiar with that it catches her off guard and she ends up sputtering out another catchphrase greeting rather than their usual banter and Blank’s smile falls.
“Or I can just make you your usual,” Froyo stutters, a little louder than it needs to be, but at least this time when she smiles, it doesn’t feel disjointed on her face--just embarrassed.
Blank raises an eyebrow, and it's awkward so Fro starts sputtering out apologies and it’s not like there is anyone waiting behind Blank and June is doing the table rounds so her only witness is the hot blonde who favours sweet things and has been MIA for months.
“Sorry but uh, it feels like it would be a little cold for a chiller though, considering that the weather forecast said that it could snow if the temperature dropped any lower and I get that you have a sweet tooth, but there is always a—”
“Froyo.”
Oh.
It’s not the first time Blank has called her by her name, but it’s certainly been a while and Froyo’s words just fade into the sounds of the café; of pages turning and people talking and the speaker system playing acoustic pop beneath all of it.
She feels like she might fall over.
“Hi.”
Blank laughs, shaking his head as if this stupidity is something he has missed as much as Froyo missed their small talk. “Why don’t you recommend something. It worked out well last time, didn’t it?”
Froyo smiled, because this is the banter they would exchange, and like a sigh leaving her, her anxiety smoothes out into nostalgia along with the motion of her shrug. It feels so natural, and she’s already straightening up, heading to the fridge before she even knows what she’s going to do.
“I couldn’t say. You said it wasn’t the worst thing you had tasted, but then you didn’t drink anything else, so maybe I made a good choice.”
“Whatever,” he bites, but there’s no heat and it’s warm and it’s familiar and Froyo can’t help herself.
“I’ve missed this.”
Blank stares, blinking, then laughs at her runaway mouth but his smile doesn’t falter.
“Me too.”
And just like that, Blank returns to his role as Froyo’s favourite regular.
At first he would only show up about once a week, but by the time October was in full swing and the café was decked out with black cats and spiders and paperchain pumpkins, Blank’s routine was so precise that Froyo knew that on Monday mornings, he’d be in between seven and quarter past; Wednesday just after one, and late on a Friday evening, right before closing time.
The other addition to his refined schedule was that, now, every Friday evening he would wait around until closing, sometimes even helping Froyo to lift all the barstools onto the table, or making a start so Froyo could mop whilst Moon sorted the registers and cleaned the café bar so that, by half seven when they turned off the lights, Moon and Blank could head off to have dinner together or head to the nearby bar for a few drinks.
The first time it happened, Froyo had made the normal assumption that the pair of them were going on a date--no matter how much she frowned at the idea.
Her reasonings had been justifiable, herself upset at the prospect in the same way she’d experienced a million times her friend dating the person she liked, but at least she had the sense to ask Moon about it the first thing the next day with intent on congratulating her, only to be happily informed that it was just two friends catching up on lost time.
There was no romance between them and never will be.
Moon had explained one morning, when the barstools were still on the tables, and the machines were still warming up, and the sun was only just beginning to paint the city in orange, that she and Blank had been close friends and that Blank liked her. Practically best friends although it hadn’t started out that way when Blank all but declared a competition over their grades—Blank has always been competitive in anything and everything he does—considering the pair were the smartest in their class.
Moon didn’t say what changed, only that things had and by the time Moon noticed that Blank was pushing everyone away, it was hard to rekindle what friendship they had when only Moon seemed to want it. Froyo had a small theory, considering when Lucas saw Dusk the redhead had the same reaction as Blank when he saw Moon.
“Now we’re making up for lost time,” she had said, glancing at the door, as if Blank was going to stroll in any moment. “For some reason, I thought that everything would be different now. But we’ve been talking—texting, these past few weeks, and Blank is still the same person I knew growing up. He’s a little sharper now, and his patience isn’t what it used to be, but he’s still my friend.”
The first customer had come in then, leaving Froyo to her own thoughts as she moved around the café to turn over the chairs, stuck wondering how long it had been since the pair of them had last spoken. The subject didn’t come up in conversation again, and Froyo had a feeling it would be prying to ask her.
It wasn’t like Froyo could ask Blank either.
They weren’t quite friends – certainly not simple acquaintances, but they were still on two different sides of the coffee counter exchanging jokes and witty, snarky, and sarcastic remarks, and even though Froyo wanted to invite the guy out for an evening, it was a completely different story between wanting and doing.
That want only increased when Froyo fell in love with him a little more each day. Sometimes it was because of something simple, and some days it was a show of decency, or a side to him that Froyo hadn’t seen yet.
The first time was November; just a few days after Halloween meaning that all of the decorations were still up, but the menu had changed into pre-Christmas gingerbread, spiced wine and cranberry everything.
Froyo had been running late on an afternoon shift she had been called in to cover because June was recovering from a fight she and her eve had, and had arrived to the café in time to witness Blank stepping in on a rude customer that didn’t want to take no for an answer because there was something wrong about his tea, coffee, drink—whatever, and it was only Angel behind the counter, who couldn’t handle irate customers on a good day.
Froyo had made to step in, because as much as she is a bleeding heart, she’s also immensely curious and hey, Angel is her friend and Blank just might be and it’s easier to appease the asshole with a new drink and a free cake than whatever argument will unfold.
But Froyo didn’t even get as far as the counter before Blank was chasing the asshole out of the café with a threatening snarl and a string of curses that made many of the older patrons widened their eyes, while the teens sniggered behind their hands and some even filmed it on their phones, the idiots.
Out the corner of her eye, Grandma Chiyo had raised her drink from the window seat before returning to her reading like nothing had happened.
Another time, Froyo had been away from the counter, cleaning up a smashed cup and its spilled contents when Blank came in, a little flustered and certainly late. He’d given Froyo a half smile in greeting, and hurried to the counter where Emily, the newest full-timer, had been left to manage the bar by herself. It was her first morning and not a good plan in hindsight, but Froyo didn’t want to delegate cleaning to her and make her feel like she was on the bottom rung.
Froyo hadn’t taught her how to make chillers yet, considering they weren’t exactly on the menu in the winter and Blank was the only one stupid enough to drink an iced beverage three degrees from snowing. After Emily had explained as such, Blank simply asked for something she did know how to make.
By the time that Fro had swept up the shattered porcelain and mopped the coffee, Blank was on his way out, a quick wave over his shoulder and a small smile and a promise to see him tomorrow for his usual drink and somehow Froyo was falling harder than ever.
That afternoon, she taught Emily how to make Blank’s three favourite drinks, just in case.
When it’s Angel behind the counter, and when it’s Lucas making his drink, Blank doesn’t talk more than needed, because he’s a regular with the same drink—regular enough that he knows how to handle Angel on a very bad day, like he can see the signs and knows when to soften his voice and when not to talk at all.
And just like that, Froyo could feel himself falling deeper into her fantasies a little more each day.
Jake is the only one out of all the full-time workers that doesn’t outright like Blank, but Froyo knows that that’s more because Jake doesn’t like the way Blank dresses himself; his clothing style to be unimaginative, boring and an insult to the shape of his body. (They’ve all seen his ass, and Jake knows more about clothing than anyone so they trust him).
He had told Froyo on more than one occasion that he wanted to rip all of Blank’s clothes off of him, and stuff him into something smart; maybe a button down and some slacks, or maybe some form-fitting jeans and a knitted jumper.
Froyo wanted to rip Blank’s clothes off for entirely different reasons.