Jesus Christ, get it together, you imbecile.
Pull yourself together.
How could he when he was still so broken?
The woman wrote his name and order on a cup and was about to pass it off to her colleague when he had a sudden thought and lifted a hand to stop her before he could stop himself. “Wait!”
She paused.
“Uh…c-can I get that extra hot, please?” There was no way he was taking his mask off here, but he’d come this far. Might as well go for the extra credit and sit for a minute at a quiet table. That was definitely the reason he suddenly wanted to stay.
Definitely.
The only reason.
“Of course you can.” Her smile was softer this time, and her eyes never lingered on his mask or tried to search out what was hidden behind his hair. She simply looked at him like he was normal. Like she was kind.
He liked the way that felt.
He rubbed the back of his neck while she rang him up at the register. Her hair was a pretty chestnut color, and a single strand had slipped out at the base of her bun and curled into a perfect, loose spiral at the nape of her neck. When she turned her head, the morning summer sun caught in it and glimmered a warm gold.
Oh god.
He pulled a twenty out of his wallet, and, without thinking, dumped all the change she handed him into the jar next to the register.
It was easier than trying to wrestle bills and coins back inside the leather folds with his damaged hand. He didn’t want her to see him struggle.
But her beautiful eyes did widen in shock at that.
“Whoa. Wow. Thank you, sir! That’s—”
The panic rose. She’d noticed. What he just did apparently wasn’t typical.
For fuck’s sake, Theo.
Be normal for once in your goddamn life.
Oh god, he’d fucked up, hadn’t he? He was weird just now, that was weird, that was abnormal, people didn’t tip that much,oh god.Before she could thank him further, Theo retreated, claiming a table in the corner as swiftly as he could and only darting up once from his chair to grab his order.
He made it exactly forty minutes before leaving.
Extra credit indeed.
But it was because his hand was busy doodling that tiny curl at the base of her neck over and over and over in his sketchbook. He had to keep stealing glimpses of the gorgeous woman at the register the entire time, just to make sure he got the curves of it right. It had to be perfect. He had to get it right.
He couldn’t do much.
But he could sketch that.
Audrey.
Her name was Audrey.
He went again to the café the next week. And then three times the week after. He went five times the week after that, but two of those were in the afternoon and someone else was working behind the counter, some dumbass named Steve who forgot to make his coffee extra hot and also left room for cream when he said he didn’t want that, which was how Theo discovered Audrey only worked the morning shifts.
Every time he saw her, she was more beautiful than the last.
He, meanwhile, remained an inept, bumblingidiot.
