I Draw Sometimes

“Interested in maybe… not finishing that 4th cup?” You grimace as you watch him stop mid sip.

Sat alone in the back of your very empty cafe, was recently appointed chairholder of Wayne Tech Enterprises. Timothy Drake. A man whose reputation, and life, you’ve only ever heard and read about. And boy,- His stare is pinning. It almost makes you lose your resolve.

Though you do regret opening your mouth a little, considering the transaction is done, coffee is paid for, and the espresso has been pressed. You ask yourself too late.

Who are you to stop a grown ass man? His expression echoed that thought.

One of his perfectly blue eyes twitch, hugged by poorly covered eye-bags, and topped with an arched brow that screams- The audacity.

Fuck, you may not be a bartender with a right to refuse someone so clearly overserved.

But, you’ve seen him in your quiet little cafe for the 17th time in 5 days. Doing the same thing. Arguing with shareholders via email (You imagine as such with how violently he types away on that keyboard.) and drinking straight up espresso, iced, in a tall cup with oatmilk as a chaser.

And sure, as a nightshift employee working in a profitable sinkhole.

Turning down, or gods forbid OFFENDING such a high profile customer is terrible. A sin in the eyes of your boss, especially when Tim’s money has been very nice.

Someone has to say, “Look friend, You're gonna hurt yourself.” So, begrudgingly, you do just that.

And it is most definitely received poorly as Tim goes to set down the paper cup and shut (slam) the lid of his laptop. You quickly move into practiced customer recovery-

  “I have a bagel! S-so before you bite,” You swallow quickly. Thankful it seemed to briefly tame the storm swimming behind his baby blues. “Here me out, maybe we trade coffee for some water? And the next cup of espresso is on me! though, preferably in the next 2 business days cause-”

You pause again, watching as his expression shifts from annoyance, to what could pass for interest. So, with some new confidence, you take a deep breath before continuing.

  “-I don’t know how to say this nicely, so I’ll say it bluntly. You look terrible. Like you need a nap. And as happy as I am to take your money cause well, this place needs it, but look man, I’m worried about your health. This much caffeine cannot be healthy. And I live off the stuff. But I also know when to quit.”

Sliding the bagel over to the side of his laptop and promptly backing off a little like one would when approaching a rapid animal.

…

The silence is deafening. And he just.. stares.

You don’t back down though, despite having the feeling that this might be the last you see of the infamous Tim Drake. Wayne Tech extraordinaire.

Then, he brushes a hand through his loose black locks and catches a glimpse of himself in the window’s reflection. A low whistle breezes past his lips and you stop yourself before your stare comes off as weird.

  “That's bad huh?” He muses, gently pushing the coffee back in favor of the bagel. And that's the reassurance your shoulders need to finally lax.

Smiling softly, you hand off the glass of water next. “Your makeup is smudged for starters.” You hum thoughtfully before pointing at the bags under his eyes. “But- I will say you’d still make Gotham's cover for handsome bachelors. Specifically for the theme of ‘Exhaustedly’fine.” That earns a smile, it borders a smirk, and you can’t pin down if that’s just natural for him. But damn is it a nice thing to see at 12am. And it settles in the pit of your stomach.

Horribly smitten. You could see why his fans, the people obsessed with the Wayne family, would be so horribly smitten.     “Is that even a real category?” He mused, taking a savoring bite of the bagel. It’s loaded with eggy-cheese goodness, and it practically melts the salary man before you. Bringing some life back into that pale skin of his.

“You’d win if it was.” You add, this time your voice was steady, leaning into how you usually feel. You move to gather some of his trash. Thankful it's been organized and sorted already. Tim was kinder than the tabloids wrote about him. And while you swear, you're not a stalker. With the amount of information, you happen to know about him, the feeling is eerily close.

After he leaves, you swear you would stop eavesdropping on your regulars. Especially those girls who come in and gush constantly about, ‘Keeping up with the Wayne Family.’   Tim snorts, taking another bite of the bagel before clearing his throat. And you have to turn away to stop yourself from watching his adams apple bob, peaking out like a greeting from beneath the button of his collar.

“-How much do I owe you?” He hums, gently closing the laptop and taking a healthy swig of the water.

You answer before you can fully stop to think. “I think the amount of tip money you keep leaving covers today's trip. And honestly the next several.” You bite your lip, torn between caring about this overworked tech specialist, and wanting to milk a cash cow. Cause deep down, you're still a Gothamite who needs to make ends meet.

“Just… get some rest? And we’ll call it even… it’s bad for business if people find out the current chairholder for Wayne Tech croaks in my cafe.”

“You seem to know a lot about me.” He mutters, leaning back in the booth chair. But his gaze is less threatening and more… impressed? Amused? Like he’s waiting for you to reveal something.

And your shrug, a bit embarrassed by how much you unfortunately know. Biting down on your lower lip. You feel his eyes on your back as you drop the trash off in the bin a few steps away. “I have some regulars who are very attached to that LTTV, reality show. And I am a nosy being by nature.”

“I’ll say.” Tim snorts, far more amused by yourself than you’d ever expect from someone who looked like they were considering dismemberment minutes prior.

You should add, ‘Bagels that can tame savage and sleep-deprived tech bro’s’ to your cafe’s slogan.

  “But for real, how much for the bagel.” He pushes, getting up and out of the booth with yawn. You watch as blue eyes study his watch. Then Tim moves to pack up getting ready to leave.

Shaking your head, you step over to the sign at the door to the cafe and flip it to ‘closed.’ The cafe is still open till 1am. But Tim didn’t need to know that. (He knew.)

“The cost is sleep, and then you can pay again when you come back for your regular.” You smile, and for a second, Tim doesn’t really buy it. Gaze narrowing pointedly, until it softens.

Specifically, when he realizes…

“You're… serious?” It's poised as a question, but as Tim steps to the door, it's more observation.

“Is this typically how you conduct business? Cause I gotta say that's not a very sound business practice.” His tone is cool and level. And while you know he’s right and technically as a ‘contract’ employee, freebies aren’t exactly a thing you can do. However, what's a job worth without a little exploitation of benefits?

“Sure… But it's a chance I’m willing to take, for a regular.”

Your words are full of expectation, like speaking them like an offer you knew he’d accept. And much to your chagrin. Tim nods, a smirk playing out on his lips as he pushes open the door.