Pokemon Oneshots

Dawn x Paul // IkariShipping

Paul's POV~

"You sure you don't want anything?" Trip asked as we walked into the coffee shop on campus, backpacks slung over our shoulders. 

"I don't like coffee," I mumbled, getting into the long line with him. I had never set foot in this place; it was always too busy, and I didn't necessarily like crowds. Or people.

"Suit yourself," he said, and I shoved my hands in my pockets, wondering why I didn't just go back to our dorm without making the detour with him. I kept my head down as we waited in the line, and when it was finally Trip's turn, a sweet voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"What can I getcha?" the barista asked him, and I looked up. Her eyes flicked over to mine, and her smile grew just a bit before she refocused her attention on Trip as he rattled of his long, complex order. She asked for his name, and he paid, and I didn't follow him when he moved out of the way to let the next person order. The girl turned her head towards me and gave me a charming smile. "And you?"

"Me?" I asked, and I must've sounded so stupid, because she giggled.

"Yes, you," she chimed, tucking a loose strand of blue hair behind her ear. "What can I get for you?"

I hoped she couldn't tell I was panicking as I looked up at the menu full of things I had never heard of before. I tried to play it cool, keeping a blank look on my face as my eyes scanned over the menu items, but my hands were sweating and I had no idea how to even pronounce any of these. I didn't want to get any of that girly stuff either.

"One small coffee," I said, and she blinked at me. "Please," I added as an afterthought.

"Just a black coffee?" she asked, seeming almost impressed. I bet she filled hers with cream and sugar until she couldn't taste the coffee anymore. I looked down, nodding once, and she tapped in my order. "Can I get your name?" I guess I took too long before replying, because Trip answered for me, and I shot him a glare. She giggled at that too. "Ok, Paul. I'll have that right out for you."

As soon as we exited the shop, coffees in hand, I poured that garbage in the trash.

"Ok, what was that?" Trip asked, sipping his drink.

"I don't like coffee, I told you," I replied, and he shook his head.

"No, Paul, what was that in there? I have never seen you act that way around a girl," he said, and I had to fight the blush threatening to rise on my cheeks. "When girls hit on you, you usually tell them they're tryhards and make them cry."

I shrugged, and Trip didn't let it go. He talked about it the rest of the night, and I thought about the pretty barista that, for some reason, had caught my attention.

I went into the coffee shop every day the next week. If she wasn't there when I got there, I walked out. If she was, I ordered a small black coffee and gave her a tip. She didn't ask for my name and wrote a smiley face on my cup. I had gotten a glimpse of her nametag the third time I saw her. Dawn.

She seemed kind of airheaded, but I could deal with that, I decided. We all have our flaws, except me. 

I figured out she worked the closing shift on Fridays, and the following Friday, I went in an hour before closing. Dawn didn't ask me for my order, only greeted me and told me my total, which was $3.05 every time. This time, she had drawn an angry stick figure on my cup, which I presumed to be me. It made me smile. Just a little.

I sat down at a table with my drink, and I saw Dawn raise her eyebrows out of the corner of my eye. Every time I had come so far, I left as soon as I got my order. Tonight, I pulled out my laptop and worked on an essay, keeping myself busy until the customers, and eventually employees, were gone. They didn't ask me to leave, only waved at Dawn as they exited and she remained. 

"We closed half an hour ago," she said as she came out from behind the bar, taking a seat across from me. She rested her chin on her hand, and smiled her ever-present smile. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," I said, and she waited for me to continue. I closed my laptop and cleared my throat, waiting a few moments before making my admission. "I don't like coffee."

"I figured, Paul," Dawn said, placing her hand over her mouth to muffle a giggle. "I see you throw it out every morning. We have windows."

"Oh," I said. She pulled a pen from behind her ear, grabbing my still full coffee cup and starting to write on it.

"You're in my roommate's government class," she said while she wrote. "She asked you out earlier this semester, and you told her she was ugly."

"She is," I said bluntly, and Dawn laughed. 

"You're kinda cute," she said as she handed the cup back to me, and on it was her phone number with x's and hearts. "In an asshole-who-knows-he's-hot kind of way. Not everyone's cup of tea."

"Is it yours?" I asked with a small smirk, because at this point, it was obvious. She didn't say anything, only winked at me and stood up from the table.

We walked out of the shop together, and she locked the doors behind us. I almost threw the cup of coffee in the trash by instinct, but I stopped myself. This would be the one cup I wouldn't throw away.