Vanilla & Smoke

KADY

The world had seemed to have disappeared right from under my feet and been swallowed by a dark, fathomless pit. What I came to piece together was that I was what had disappeared from the world— not the other way around.

My stomach had felt like it was filled with lead, my body plunging further and further with the light above my floating crown of dark hair frosted in golden wisps becoming smaller and smaller until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore.

Once they did open again, the world had become a completely different place. I wondered how long had I been gone? How far had I fell?

Cold, icy gashes overwhelmed my body. I couldn't speak, couldn't blink, couldn't move a single muscle against the weight of the blurry shapes that hovered over me in a morbid air.

Though, past the despairing thought these choked breaths would be my last, a sense of contentment filled me in the memory of his words and declaration to me. The one testament mattered more than anything that waited ahead.

Colleen was peacefully sipping on her mocha, completely ignoring the sour face Izzy was pulling as though the coffee personally offended her. Granted, in Izzy’s books, the very fact she’d come to Sip It Like It's Hot, a humble coffee shop off campus, instead of following her itinerary had us owe it to her. So she was allowed to be a little hissy.

“Y’know what, maybe we should just go. I don’t think he’s working today,” I said.

Izzy served me a skeptic look from across the table. “Nice try but don’t expect us to believe you don’t already know when his shifts start with the amount of time you spend here.”

I failed to come up with a lie because damn, she’d seen right through me. “Waiting like this makes me feel like a stalker…”

“Sweetie, you are a stalker,” Colleen said. “I can only say it’s a miracle he hasn’t caught onto that yet when you were getting all those teas during summer. I'm concerned he might be mentally challenged.”

I opened my mouth to say I never would make it so obvious and she was being rude, when I my gaze strayed and I caught onto a certain pair of eyes by the counter. My heart dipped and I tensed up.

Izzy didn’t miss it. “You sly little bitch, he’s already here, isn’t he?”

“What? Which one?” asked Colleen.

Shyly, I rose a finger in direction to the counter where he was fixing up the crooked label on the glass display cabinet. “The one who’s wearing the green plaid shirt and glasses.” That was the general description I could give, since saying  Timothée Chalamet and Hugh Dancy's love child or future DILF, would probably seem too subjective.

The pair whipped their heads round and looked near close to falling over their seats to retain a visual.

“Stop looking! He'll notice.” I kind of doubted it with how crowded the shop currently was that he’d pay mind to the three girls out back in jerseys but I couldn’t be taking chances.

Thankfully, they listened and turned back to face me. “Huh, really wasn’t buying this whole, 'fell in love with his voice' bullcrap so I figured he was hot but colour me surprise— you found depth,” Izzy said.

And I didn’t blame her.

It was probably shallow but I preferred the more clean cut type of guy; Athletic, blue eyed blondes complimented my interests and were my weakness with my two exes to attest to that. The barista serving a latte was the complete opposite. He had messy, umber hair that fell past his eyes that were framed by thick-rimmed glasses and with the amount of times I saw him smoking out back, suggested he didn’t actively play sports.

Yet, I found my chest already growing tight when he flashed the latte customer with a smile. I needed that smile to wake me up every morning.

“He's kinda cute in that geeky kind of way, I guess.” I knew Colleen would be the one nice about my morbid crush. “But I can’t imagine a voice sounding anything close to a God like Tide Wesley coming out of his mouth.”

Once again, I struggled to find my grounds to argue. It was why I didn’t want them tagging along because I knew the reality of it was insane. I would’ve thought so too if hearing someone dared to claim a random, hipster barista could hold a candle to the angelic voice of arguably, the most sensational singer to hit the charts in the last decade.

At least, in my scope and the many of my friends, Millennial Coast was the greatest band around. I'd listened to them since their debut when I was fifteen, the vocals and beats captivated me in a way music never had before. I knew right then they were different from every other cookie cut out boy band and was ecstatic at their rise in fame.

And admittedly, Tide Wesley’s novelty, dirty blonde hair might’ve influenced my preference in men.

Then that day changed everything. It was somewhere along two months ago, I was stressed for exams and rushed in to the shop practically dead and heard that very barista quietly humming and it floored me. It was like I was hooked up to my air pods, playing a track to Millennial Coast but this was more raw, more rich.

I couldn’t get it out of my head since. Then everyday after that, I was coming in and it changed from trying to prove I heard wrong, to just watching him, observing how he treated the customers, joked around with his co-workers and quite possibly was OCD in how I knew whenever he wrote the menu, the handwriting was immaculate and all the drinks were alphabetized.

Point being, I knew it sounded insane, but I wanted to trust my closest friends would at least be willing to give me the benefit of the doubt.

“You won’t believe me until you hear it,” I curtly said.

Colleen simply shrugged, sipping her mocha.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Ask him out,” ordered Izzy.

“What? Now?”

“Duh.”

My eyes darted to the front. “But, but he’s working… and won’t he find it weird? I'm a stranger.”

“And that’s how you stop being strangers,” said Izzy. “Or you can keep this up until he gets a restraining order. Your choice, really.” Colleen backed her up with a firm head nod.

Maybe they were onto something. I supposed it was getting a little unhealthy and the worst the guy could do was say no. I'd bear the bitter sting of rejection for as long as I could remember, probably become triggered by coffee shops and only have to stay clear of this place for two more years, I'd graduate and go home.

Totally not a big deal.

Colleen offered me her hand mirror for me to check my appearance. I pushed a few loose strands of my bottled platinum hair out of my face and my complexion was clear, alongside the cut on my lip from when that midfielder's stick decked me had healed. I mustered up the most attractive smile I could and felt satisfied at the beaming reflection. Okay, all set.

With the thumbs up from the girls to see me off, I slid out of the booth and took tentative steps over to the front. A tall suited business man shielded me from him for a few seconds, though long enough to get me second guessing everything I was about to do and then Suits walked away with his coffee.

Those honey brown eyes latched onto mine and my heart was seized. Heat rushed up my cheeks as his expression lifted. I was too anxious to overhear but the former customer clearly pissed him off by the furrow in his brows and dim gaze— until he saw me. His face relaxed and he offered me that smile.

It was a total confidence boost that hit my gut, I felt seen. I felt welcomed. Wanted, even.

“Hey.” The voice was hoarse on the end, so jarringly deep in contrast to Tide Wesley’s voice that it shocked me.

Which was stupid. I knew he wasn’t Tide, it was never going to be something as absurd as that and I had more than likely imagined how beautiful his singing was that day because of the summer heat.

“Vanilla tea, right?” He'd asked with a slight tilt of the head.

And that moment, looking back, set everything into motion. I leant forward, the solid bridge of the counter curling my torso in deeply but it was a weirdly satisfying twist and then my mouth pressed his.