Work Text:
Grantaire comes running into the Bean and Gone coffee shop, her messenger bag flung over her shoulder with papers threatening to fall out at any second and a beanie hat shoved on her head, messy fly-away curls poking out like she’s only just rolled out of bed. She leans against the counter a second, doubled over trying to get her breath back before she looks up at the barista for the day and says “Hey, Prouvaire! Can I get a-”
Then she stops, straightening up. Her mouth quirks up and she blinks a couple of times. “You’re not Jehan.”
The girl behind the counter frowns back at her. “No…?” She says questioningly, and her voice is beautiful.
Although come to think of it, the rest of her is beautiful too. Long golden hair that falls in perfect curls around her face even though it’s pulled harshly back into a pony-tail, and big brown eyes with thick lashes that are set into perfectly smooth, ever-so-slightly freckle-y mocha-toned skin. She looks like the living embodiment of the taste of caramel syrup. She’s wearing a red apron, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up past her elbows and a confused look on her face that gets more and more bewildered the longer Grantaire stares at her. Her name tag reads Enjolras, but there is no way in hell that Grantaire is going to be able to pronounce that so she doesn’t even try. “Um,” she says, articulately.
The girl’s eyebrows knit together in concern. “You were, um, going to order?” She says.
“Oh! Yes, right!” Grantaire hastily scrambles to remember, rushing out her order all in one breath. “A skinny latte with a shot of caramel syrup and an extra coffee shot, chocolate powder on the top and make sure not to froth the milk too late or it’ll burn and some people like it like that but I can’t stand it.”
Behind the counter, the girl blinks a couple of times and bites her lip. “Okay…” She says slowly. “It’s my first day.” She sounds a little despairing. “Okay.”
Grantaire grins, the other girl’s slight panic amusing her, watching her as she grabs a cup and the shot glass, then the coffee arm thing and empties the ground coffee into it. “Oh, you need to tamp it before you put it in the machine or it’ll explode!” She calls, and the girl looks up at her, eyes wide.
“Oh, yeah! I forgot already… Oh god, this is not going to go well.”
As she twists the coffee arm thing into place and slides the shot glass underneath it, Grantaire wonders about how she manages to keep her face looking perfectly beautiful while also looking terrified. She has to go to the fridge to get the 2% milk and bend down to rummage around in it to find it somewhere at the back- R can’t help but watch. She’s wearing very, very skinny blue jeans and her butt is literally perfect.
Coffee shop girl finds the milk and cheers a little under her breath, pouring it into the jug, cleaning down the steam arm and purging it first, then sliding it into the jug.
“Going ok so far,” Grantaire teases, and the girl shoots her a glare over her shoulder. “So, where’s Jehan?”
“I don’t know,” Enjolras shrugs and the milk jug wobbles concerningly. “I’m meant to be covering for someone right now, though, I think they’re ill or something.”
“Ah,” Grantaire says, nodding, and makes a mental note to text Prouvaire to see if they need anything. “So how’s your first day?”
“I haven’t set anything on fire yet,” the girl jokes, and then frowns. “Although I have managed to give a customer third-degree burns.” At Grantaire’s quizzical look, she elaborates. “I spilled coffee over his hand.” She lowers her voice. “He was hitting on me, and I got distracted telling him that it’s not fair to flirt with people when they’re working and I knocked it over by accident.”
Grantaire laughs out loud. “Good. Good for you.”
Enjolras smiles shyly. “It’s not going too badly.”
There’s a moment of eye-contact that makes Grantaire feel like she’s drowning in sunshine and the other girl’s smile is so pretty that neither of them notice the spluttering bubbling coffee machine until the milk is over-frothed and starts to flood over the rim, burning her hand and making her drop the jug.
“Shit!” On the other side of the room, a grumpy man in a suit looks up scowling and she looks at him apologetically.
“Spoke too soon,” Grantaire says, and then “Are you ok?”
She looks at her hand and winces- “Fine. I’m fine.” Then she looks down at the sea of milk and froth that is slowly pooling at her feet. “Oh my god.”
Grantaire slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. “Do you need a hand?”
“It’s alright, I’m alright. I can-” She takes a breath, lips quirking into a smile even as her hands are shaking slightly from the shock. “It made me jump.”
“Chill. Just…” Grantaire points at the roll of tissues. “Use that. Wipe it up. Don’t freak out.”
Enjolras takes a breath, but nervous giggles still burst out. “I was trying so hard,” she manages to say through gales of laughter. “I was trying so hard and it still went wrong.” She drops into a crouch to try and wipe it all up but every time she starts to make progress she starts to dissolve into giggles again. Grantaire’s mirroring laughter is not helping.
“It’s ok. Everyone messes up the first time round.”
“Sure,” Enjolras says sarcastically.
Grantaire shrugs. “I used to work at a coffee shop. My first day I pressed the wrong button on the coffee grinder and it started pouring out coffee grounds and it wouldn’t stop and we had to unplug it. My third day I forgot to empty the coffee bucket and it flooded the coffee machine and we had to close for a day. After I’d worked here a month, I tried to clear a table but it was too much for me to carry and I dropped it all over my boss. Just before I left, I forgot to tamp the coffee and the arm wasn’t properly in and it exploded. Soggy coffee everywhere.” Enjolras was almost crying with laughter by then. “Believe me, a little trouble frothing milk is no big deal.”
Enjolras smiled at her, dumping the milk-soaked tissues in the bin and turning back to the coffee machine. “Right,” she says, shooting her a look. “Don’t talk to me for a moment. I want to concentrate to make your coffee.” Her brow is furrowed, focused, but her shoulders are shaking a little still with subdued laughter as she tries again.
Watching her, Grantaire bites her lip and wonders what she’d do if she asked for her number. “Take your time.”
Finally she presents her with a finished latte, and watches nervously as Grantaire takes a sip. “Ok?”
“Good,” Grantaire smiles. “Very good.”
“Really?”
Grantaire tries to keep her face straight for a second before breaking down into giggles. “No. I’m sorry, it’s awful. You burnt the milk and you used the wrong setting for the coffee and you forgot to put a shot in it but you tried! You tried and that’s got to be a good thing, right?”
Enjolras sighs, grinning at her too. “I guess you could always help me to improve.”
“Are you asking me out?” Grantaire asks, eyes widening. A little butterfly of hope and anxiety pops into existence in her stomach.
“Oh, god, sorry, have I read this all wrong? I’m not good at…” She waves a hand around vaguely. “People stuff.”
“No, no! I mean. I’d love to see you again. Very much.” She leans over across the counter, looking up through her eyelashes. “But maybe let’s give coffee a wide birth, hey?”
Enjolras prints her receipt, scribbling down her number. “Here… you… go.” The taller girl takes the number with a grin and slides it into her skirt pocket. Enjolras leans across the counter, a little too close, and pouts her lips dramatically, putting on a Hollywood seductress voice. “Call me!”
“Believe me, I will.” Grantaire stares at her, and then blinks and shakes her head as if she’s clearing away thoughts as she pushes away from the counter. “I will. I will see you later, alligator.”
Enjolras shoots her with finger guns. “In a while, crocodile.”
Grantaire is so distracted by her that as she goes to leave she walks straight into the door frame.