Pretty (Skephalo-fluff)

3.1K 48 12
                                    

Every day, I watch the barista from across the cafe.

Not in a creepy way, just observing.

He's pretty.

Like, really pretty.

He doesn't talk much, other than the typical "Hi, what can I get you?".

But he's nice, I can tell.















He has friends, clearly.

Around lunchtime, every day, a group of three men arrive. I don't know them, but I've gathered their names.

The tallest one was named Clay, the youngest one is named Nick, and the shortest is named George.

They almost seem like overgrown children, and the barista was the father.

It's fitting, honestly.

There's a couple other baristas that I've noticed he talks to often. Neither of them talk, not really. One of them says something occasionally, like "thank you" or the total. The other speaks only in sign language, and from what little sign language I know, he's incredibly sassy and sarcastic.

Of course, that's mostly based on pretty boys reactions and body language.





















~<•>~

Every day, the regular walks in, and sits in the booth in the corner. Far away from the counter, but at an angle where he could still see me.

I know he watches me. I can feel his glare on me as I work.

It's not a menacing glare, but more of an observant one.

He hardly orders.

Well, when I'm at the register, anyways.

He doesn't talk much, which feels.....wrong, for him. His demeanor and voice makes him seem like a very extroverted person, so it feels almost wrong to see him so quiet. So antisocial.

He always orders the same thing. I've practically memorized it by now.





















"Dude, just talk to 'im." Nick said one day during my break. "He's clearly into you."

"What? No he's not."

He groaned, throwing a crumb from the cookie he was eating at me. "Dude, you're blinder than Clay and George. He comes to the cafe an hour after your shift starts, and doesn't leave until your shift ends."

"So...?"

"Every day he does this. Not to mention he constantly looks at you."

"No he doesn't."

"Dude, I can feel his eyes on you right now, I don't have to even look at him."

I look over to the regular. His dark chocolate brown ones meet my emerald green ones for a moment before he looks away, doing something on his phone.

Or pretending to, at least.


~<•>~

"Hey, you're Zak, right?" Someone asked me, walking up to my booth. I recognized him as Nick.

"Um, y-yeah, how'd you know?"

"My friend over there asked me to deliver this to you." He said, gesturing to the pretty barista, who was currently being swarmed by five teenagers.

"I-I didn't order anything." I said.

"It's on the house." He winked. "I'm Nick, by the way."

"I...n-nice to meet you." I smiled politely at him.

I looked down at the cup as Nick ran back to the barista. I gasped as I read the name on it.

'Zak <3
We should talk some time
XXX-XXX-XXXX
-Darryl'

I looked back up to meet the baristas pretty green eyes. He smiled, his cheeks slightly pink.

I smiled back.

~~~~~

527 words

I know I'm supposed to be on a break but I can't stand not writing anything.

DSMP oneshotsWhere stories live. Discover now