Perfection
Author: evil_queen369
Genre: Fluff
Fandom: Alice nine.
Pairings: Shou/Hiroto
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Chapter: 1/1
Synopsis: Everyday he orders the same exact thing: one mocha cappuccino with whipped cream and extra chocolate on top.
Comment: At the end.
Everyday he walks in at the same exact time. Everyday he orders the same exact thing: one mocha cappuccino with whipped cream and extra chocolate on top. He smiles showing off his perfect white teeth and takes a seat by the window while I make his drink. He stares out the window as the snow falls slowly in large flakes. He never takes off the sunglasses that cover most of his face, but I know he has the most beautiful eyes anyone as ever seen; I don’t have to look to know. His hair falls in his face, and he pushes it out of the way slowly and keeps his eyes trained on the falling flakes.
I vaguely wonder why he always comes in every day. Even if it’s snowing and there’s so much snow that it would be unsafe to leave home, he comes in. It seems as if it’s routine for him; it’s something he has to do to complete his day, and it’s become part of my routine as well. He comes in so often that I know when to start making his mocha cappuccino with whipped cream and extra chocolate on top: two o’clock, to be exact. Little does he know, his order is always ready when he walks through the door. I suppose I’m just too shy to actually let him know I pay attention to him.
I smile softly to myself as I sprinkle some red sprinkles on the top of the whip cream and chocolate; although he didn’t ask for it, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. The sprinkles match the red cup perfectly, and since it’s the holiday season, I try my best to bring it out with every drink, although most of the time I feel I fail.
He looks away from the window as I approach him and set the drink down on the table. Would it be weird if I said I love the way he smiles when he sees the sprinkles? When he looks at me, I can feel myself blushing from head to toe, and I know I just gave myself away. Because the truth is, I’ve always liked him. From day one. When he first walked in, at the beginning of autumn, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. He just looked too perfect, and I knew I more than likely had no chance with him.
He takes the cup in his hand and smiles before thanking me like he does every day. A small laugh slips pass his plump lips as I bow slightly with another blush. I turn to go back to work when he grasps my wrist with his free hand.
“Sit.” He motions toward the empty seat in front of him. He smiles as I hesitate, and repeats himself and tells me it’s alright because he won’t keep me from working for too long; he just wants to get to know me. As I finally do as told, he smiles and takes a drink of his cappuccino and thanks me for it again, although it’s really not needed. It’s my job to make the drink for him.
Although I’m nervous and he can tell, he somehow eases me into conversation. He tells me his name is Kazamasa, and he goes to the college not too far from here. He says he comes here everyday for a reason. Because this Kazamasa already knows who I am, he says. I’m Hiroto, the younger brother of one his classmates. “He talks about you all the time.” Kazamasa smiles over the rim of his cup and licks his lips free of the whip cream.
He tells me how he doesn’t come here everyday just for the cappuccino he seems so fond of. The drink itself is only half of the reason, he says. A drink isn’t as important as the person who makes it, he tells me. A drink isn’t anything without a person to make it special for the customer, and, as he notes, his is always special. Kazamasa can tell.
“Your brother has a picture of the two of you on his binder.” Kazamasa tells me, and I know exactly which picture he’s talking about. It’s from my last birthday when he took me out to our favorite park. It was a sunny day, and he decided it was the perfect day to spend watching the clouds and talking like we used to. Kazamasa says he couldn’t help but stop by to see me in person. Apparently my brother talks about me a lot, and he brags about getting free drinks.
“But I’m sure there’s more to you than free drinks.” He smiles and sets his drink down on the table. He props his head up on his palm and adverts his gaze to the snow again. I bite my lip shyly and look down at the table because even though I can talk to him when he orders his drink, I find it hard to have a conversation with him. You know that feeling you get when you see someone you really really like, but you don’t know how to act in front of them? That’s exactly how I feel, and I know he knows that.
He looks down at his watch and bows apologetically at me before he stands up and tells me he has to get back to class. As he turns to leave, I don’t fail to see the piece of paper he tucked under his cup, and I don’t have to look to know what it is.
A/N: I don't write very many drabbles because, personally, I prefer long stories full of detail, but I made an exception for this. Since it's close to Christmas, and I didn't get around to finishing a Shou/Hiroto Christmas fic, I decided to write this. I lost interest in the other one, but somehow I like this story. It's short, yes, but I feel as if the reader can think of their own ending. I left it like that for a reason.
The photo is from stock.xchng, but it's not the photo that inspired me to write this~
Although it's not a full-length story, nor is it very much, I hope you guys enjoy it. Comment and let me know what you think, please. This is different than what I usually write, so it'd be nice to get some feedback. :3
Genre: Fluff
Fandom: Alice nine.
Pairings: Shou/Hiroto
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Chapter: 1/1
Synopsis: Everyday he orders the same exact thing: one mocha cappuccino with whipped cream and extra chocolate on top.
Comment: At the end.
Everyday he walks in at the same exact time. Everyday he orders the same exact thing: one mocha cappuccino with whipped cream and extra chocolate on top. He smiles showing off his perfect white teeth and takes a seat by the window while I make his drink. He stares out the window as the snow falls slowly in large flakes. He never takes off the sunglasses that cover most of his face, but I know he has the most beautiful eyes anyone as ever seen; I don’t have to look to know. His hair falls in his face, and he pushes it out of the way slowly and keeps his eyes trained on the falling flakes.
I vaguely wonder why he always comes in every day. Even if it’s snowing and there’s so much snow that it would be unsafe to leave home, he comes in. It seems as if it’s routine for him; it’s something he has to do to complete his day, and it’s become part of my routine as well. He comes in so often that I know when to start making his mocha cappuccino with whipped cream and extra chocolate on top: two o’clock, to be exact. Little does he know, his order is always ready when he walks through the door. I suppose I’m just too shy to actually let him know I pay attention to him.
I smile softly to myself as I sprinkle some red sprinkles on the top of the whip cream and chocolate; although he didn’t ask for it, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. The sprinkles match the red cup perfectly, and since it’s the holiday season, I try my best to bring it out with every drink, although most of the time I feel I fail.
He looks away from the window as I approach him and set the drink down on the table. Would it be weird if I said I love the way he smiles when he sees the sprinkles? When he looks at me, I can feel myself blushing from head to toe, and I know I just gave myself away. Because the truth is, I’ve always liked him. From day one. When he first walked in, at the beginning of autumn, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. He just looked too perfect, and I knew I more than likely had no chance with him.
He takes the cup in his hand and smiles before thanking me like he does every day. A small laugh slips pass his plump lips as I bow slightly with another blush. I turn to go back to work when he grasps my wrist with his free hand.
“Sit.” He motions toward the empty seat in front of him. He smiles as I hesitate, and repeats himself and tells me it’s alright because he won’t keep me from working for too long; he just wants to get to know me. As I finally do as told, he smiles and takes a drink of his cappuccino and thanks me for it again, although it’s really not needed. It’s my job to make the drink for him.
Although I’m nervous and he can tell, he somehow eases me into conversation. He tells me his name is Kazamasa, and he goes to the college not too far from here. He says he comes here everyday for a reason. Because this Kazamasa already knows who I am, he says. I’m Hiroto, the younger brother of one his classmates. “He talks about you all the time.” Kazamasa smiles over the rim of his cup and licks his lips free of the whip cream.
He tells me how he doesn’t come here everyday just for the cappuccino he seems so fond of. The drink itself is only half of the reason, he says. A drink isn’t as important as the person who makes it, he tells me. A drink isn’t anything without a person to make it special for the customer, and, as he notes, his is always special. Kazamasa can tell.
“Your brother has a picture of the two of you on his binder.” Kazamasa tells me, and I know exactly which picture he’s talking about. It’s from my last birthday when he took me out to our favorite park. It was a sunny day, and he decided it was the perfect day to spend watching the clouds and talking like we used to. Kazamasa says he couldn’t help but stop by to see me in person. Apparently my brother talks about me a lot, and he brags about getting free drinks.
“But I’m sure there’s more to you than free drinks.” He smiles and sets his drink down on the table. He props his head up on his palm and adverts his gaze to the snow again. I bite my lip shyly and look down at the table because even though I can talk to him when he orders his drink, I find it hard to have a conversation with him. You know that feeling you get when you see someone you really really like, but you don’t know how to act in front of them? That’s exactly how I feel, and I know he knows that.
He looks down at his watch and bows apologetically at me before he stands up and tells me he has to get back to class. As he turns to leave, I don’t fail to see the piece of paper he tucked under his cup, and I don’t have to look to know what it is.
A/N: I don't write very many drabbles because, personally, I prefer long stories full of detail, but I made an exception for this. Since it's close to Christmas, and I didn't get around to finishing a Shou/Hiroto Christmas fic, I decided to write this. I lost interest in the other one, but somehow I like this story. It's short, yes, but I feel as if the reader can think of their own ending. I left it like that for a reason.
The photo is from stock.xchng, but it's not the photo that inspired me to write this~
Although it's not a full-length story, nor is it very much, I hope you guys enjoy it. Comment and let me know what you think, please. This is different than what I usually write, so it'd be nice to get some feedback. :3