Hawke stretched as he woke up slowly, yawning. He scratched his black beard and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. He kicked the covers off of himself and swung his legs around off the side of his bed. His “bed” was a simple mattress on top of a box spring, so his long and muscular legs touched the ground and brought his knees nearly to his belly.
He stood and padded across the carpeted room into the bathroom, and looked in the mirror.
His dark, side swept hair was disheveled, coming just past his ears. Parts of it stuck out in every direction. He put on a red beanie to cover it up. The light gray v-neck shirt he wore was only slightly wrinkled so he threw on a dark gray flannel on top of it. Stepping into his shoes on the way out of the bathroom, he thought about Fenris, the handsome barista he’d seen yesterday and a handful of times before at the Kirkwall Coffee down the street.
Hawke hoped he’d be there today. He always made the best coffee and gave Hawke the freshest breakfast sandwich. He had a feeling the barista wouldn’t do that for just anyone. He checked his phone. It was only 5:50, ten minutes before the coffee shop opened. Hawke went through his unread messages to kill some time. Merrill had texted him a picture of some flowers, and wished him a good day. Anders sent him a sweet morning text, followed by a funny meme of a cat. Hawke grinned, and checked the time again. 5:55AM. He decided that would give him enough time to take the couple of flights of stairs to leave his apartment, and to walk to the coffee shop.
He left out the front door, and headed down the stairs. Once he got outside, he realized just how cold it was getting in the fall mornings. He shivered but decided to head into the coffee shop. A little over halfway down the block, Hawke’s heart stopped. There he was. The handsome barista boy he’d gushed about to Isabela, Anders, Varric, and Merrill. He had to remind himself to breathe.
The sight of Fenris, bundled up against the cold, was beautiful. His stark white hair was pulled up into a bun on the top of his head, bright against his tan skin. His long elf ears were turned pink from the chill in the air. He had thin wire frames resting on his slim nose. Pale white markings covered most of his body, but could hardly be seen because Fenris was wearing so many layers. His military green utility coat was buttoned up to his chin, and went down almost to the mid thigh of his skinny black work pants. His fingerless gloves showed only part of his slender fingers and his painted black nails.
The barista pulled out a set of keys in preparation to unlock Kirkwall Coffee. Hawke shook himself out of his trance and forced his legs to move, walking closer to the elf. Once he reached the door, Fenris crouched, trying to unlock the door. “Fasta Vass,” he cursed at himself. Hawke stepped silently behind the smaller elf.
“Need help?” he asked. Fenris jumped in surprise at the sound of Hawke’s low voice rumbling from behind him. Hawke apologized profusely, blushing and stumbling over his words. Fenris touched his arm and told Hawke it was fine, smiling reassuringly. Hawke thought that his smile was so cute. The barista tried once more to open the doors and succeeded. He insisted on holding the door open for Hawke. As Hawke passed through the threshold in front of him, he realized how much taller Hawke was, probably a good eight or ten inches.
Fenris rushed to get behind the counter, tearing off his coat and backpack and setting them on the floor next to him. He pulled a green visor, matching his apron, over his soft and snow white hair. He asked Hawke what he’d be getting this morning.
“Black coffee with one shot of espresso, 2 packets of sugar,” he replied. “Also, an egg white and spinach flatbread, please.”
“Name for the order?” The elf asked, already knowing the answer.
“Garrett Hawke,” was the reply.
“Alright,” Fenris said. “It’s gonna be $3.98 today.”
That’s how much it was every day Hawke came in, and both of them knew that. Hawke swiped his card and sat down at a table near the side of the counter dedicated to picking up your order.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and texted his group chat. “omg, cute barista elf is here today!!” he typed. He debated on trying to get a sneaky picture while Fenris brewed his coffee. He decided quickly against it and sent his message. Moments later, Isabela and Merrill were texting him tips on flirting. They weren’t great.
Hawke gathered up the courage to walk back up to the counter.
“Hey,” he began, trying to keep his cool. “You come here often?”
Realizing what words just crawled out of his mouth, Hawke turned as red as his beanie. Fenris chuckled, his glasses sliding down his nose a little.
“Practically every day,” he replied. “Also, you can call me Fenris, or Fen. Alternatively, you can call me at 555-123-4567”
He winked as he told Hawke his number. Hawke stares for a second in disbelief before rushing to scribble down Fenris’ number on a brown napkin. He knew what Fenris had just said had probably taken all of his courage for the week, as his ears and cheeks were a bright pink. He quickly handed Hawke his coffee and bagged sandwich, and wished him a great rest of the day before hurrying to the back room behind the counter. Hawke took a sip of his coffee and took his phone out again.
As he walked out of the coffee shop, turning over what had just happened in his head, he took a selfie with his napkin to his group chat. Hawke was nervous to text Fenris, but with enough encouragement from his friends, he finally tapped out his first text.
“hey! :) it’s hawke. working tonight? dinner at the hanged man?” He had butterflies as he hit send, and watched the ellipses come up as Fenris typed his reply.