Merry Christmas @clockworkgraystairs!! Have a Manorian coffee shop au as your cliche little Christmas gift đ Thank you for all the scheming (as well as screaming. coughs in the infernal devices) and help with other fics. ily!
Dorian was 28 years old and had long since given up on finding love in a coffee shop. A coffee shop. He was the youngest politician in the country, for fuckâs sake.
When the magic ink showed up on his wrist at midnight on his 18th birthday, he'd guffawed at Chaol who'd waited up with him, ever the believer in this soulmate crap. In miniscule white, bubbly letters, the words "Hi. Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order?" Great. That was really just his luck. Just 2 weeks before, Chaol's wrist had been emblazoned with "Not tonight, buddy. I'm just a girl in a bar tonight." She sounded like a fun girl.
Suffice it to say, considering that he was born and raised in New York then moved to Seattle, he'd seen more than his fair share of the chain's stores. For the first couple of years, he'd replied to every hot barista's greeting with "Is it you?" and secretly prayed that none of the more homely ones would perk up after hearing his order. By the time he'd graduated university, he'd given up.
When he walked into the establishment at 4th and Pine, he glanced down at his wrist and rolled his eyes, joining the queue.
At midnight on her 18th birthday, Manon Blackbeak sat in a circle with her half sisters, Asterin and Vesta, and her little sister Sorrel. When "I'm sorry, no, I just got called into a city meeting," appeared on her wrist in sloppy, harsh lettering, Asterin and Vesta let out excited squeals, while Sorrel just rolled her eyes. Â
The three of them had decided ages ago that they were all going to be surgeons like Asterin and Vesta's mom. "So, that settles that, then. Political science is a definite."
âYou were supposed to come to the dark side," Asterin growled, climbing into her little sister's lap and nearly knocking her over. She was already in her first year of Med School and Manon's hero. Somehow, she was managing to take care of Asterin, who was still in high school, and their ailing mother, all while managing to progress in her classes at UW. Manon remembered the long, teary phone call with her the week before her graduation from Dartmouth, telling her about her mother's diagnosis, and how she'd have to forgo Northwestern and settle for UW, citing that at least she'd be nearer to her. It had taken its toll on her, but by then, almost a full year from that phone call, you could hardly tell. Â
Even though she seemed genuinely happy for Manon's definitive first-words, it still stung that her tattoo had merely said "Excuse me."Â Â
While she herself was a sophomore in College already by then, having skipped grades when she was younger, Manon wasn't sure that surgery was where she was headed, despite being pre-med. That merely sealed the deal.
She'd only gotten this job to kill time and save up a few dollars while waiting for her internship at the hospital to start. She just knew that she wasn't going to meet the love of her life in a coffee shop. How cliche and boring would that be? Still, it was cute the amount of young adults who came in, eyeing her suspiciously and asking some variation on "Are you her?" after her company-standard greeting with a wanton desperation, only to deflate when she shook her head sadly. That just wouldn't be it for her. Â
She knew that it was frustrating. She saw it in the way Asterin had flinched every time a stranger moved around her on the street or tried to get her attention in a bar up until the night before she started her internship. The fact that he turned out to be a surgeon and her boss proved only to be a minor stumbling block the next morning.
That was all going to come to a close for Manon soon. She could feel it. She was going to be a kickass politician and find her equally kickass politician spouse. The fact that this was her last shift just made it all that much better.
Despite all that, she couldn't help but notice the ridiculously sexy, brooding man that just walked in and secretly mourned that her tattoo didn't read something like "Doppio Espresso and a coffee cake, please."Â After a moment, she let it go.
The line progressed efficiently and there he was in front of her and, god, he was even more beautiful up close, she thought, but found herself interrupted by the sharp chirp of an old school pager. Pager, she thought cheerfully. Politicians use those! Returning to reality, she found herself absently chorusing the typical greeting, "Hi. Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order."
The words didn't seem to rouse the man from the device. "I'm sorry, no, I just got called into a city meeting," he answered and turned and walked out just like that. Â
Manon's heart hammered away in her chest as the next guest babbled their long, frothy order at her, but it was irrelevant. She hadn't heard a word they'd said. Turning away, she waved over a coworker and pointed at the register, before she retreated into the back of the store. Holy shit. She'd met her soulmate in a coffee shop. And as quickly as he'd come, he was gone.
That night, Manon cried in her sister's arms, describing him over and over to Asterin in perfect detail thanks to her photographic memory, and swearing she hadn't made him up. "His first words defined who I'd become. What if this was it? What if I'm destined to be alone because I let him walk out?" she hiccuped. "What if he's my soulmate but I'm not his? Can that happen?"
"No, Manon," Asterin cooed. "That doesnât happen.â
It was only after the 5th time that it clicked in her head. "What time did you say it was?" Â
Sniffling pathetically, she answered "8:11". Â
"And, you said he was tall, with salt and pepper hair?" she asked, straightening herself out in front of her and putting her hands out on her shoulders.
"Do you love me?" Asterin asked her sister, question met with an indignant grunt. "Come in early for your shift tomorrow. There's someone I want you to meet. Get some sleep, hon." With little more argument, Manon headed up the stairs and into bed. As soon as she was certain she was out of earshot, Mer reached into her pocket and called her own soulmate, remembering how she'd bonded with someone over having a generic tattoo, but how she'd assured him that his soulmate probably had something great because he would be so sick of listening for it. "Chaol, are you busy?"
Morning light changes people. When she woke up, Manon felt incredibly stupid. Obviously, that couldn't have been him. She had a lifetime full of customers in front of her. The chance of meeting a politician and her soulmate in a Starbucks? Slim. Infinitesimal, even. That didn't change the fact that Asterin's persistence in getting her in early this morning was thoroughly irritating.
"Just trust me," had been the incessant refrain. "You won't regret it." She couldn't help but take her sister's urgence as a slight mockery of her reaction the night before.
Rolling her eyes, Manon sighed impatiently, "I'm fine." She grabbed her coat off the hook and headed for the door. "Really, this isn't necessary."
She merely smiled, practically pushing her to the car.
"This is stupid," Dorian moaned from where Chaol had him lodged in the hallway. "Why do I have to be here to meet your stupid girlfriend's stupid little sister?
His best friend smiled his normal 'because-I-know-what's-best-for-you-dipshit' smile, and answered "To humor me? Besides," he urged, "You never know. She might be fun to hang around."
He turned away from his best friend coldly, rolling his eyes and burying his shoulder in the wall, having decided that he wasn't just going to stare at the elevator like a chump.
Leaning against the handrail, Manon groaned "This is stupid." She couldn't believe she'd had her sleep cut back an hour before work. âYou know I'm going to be here later than anyone else. Why did you have to make it even longer?" She missed her bed already and they werenât even out of the car.
"Because you trust me. And I'm your evil big sister." Who you're going to thank endlessly in 5... 4... 3... 2...
The elevator dinged and the two girls left the car and Asterin dragged Manon straight for the men leaning against the wall with an absurd amount of pep. She couldn't even bring herself to mind that her little sister seemed more interested in her shoelaces. Â
"Hey, beautiful," he started, planting a chaste kiss to his girlfriend's cheek. "Manon," Chaol greeted, swatting at Dorian to get his attention.  Â
Asterin smiled, bumping her hip against her sister. "Manon, this is Dorian. He's the senator here." From his posture, Asterin wondered if he'd fallen asleep.
She looked up with her standard friendly smile and stopped cold, jaw suddenly lax. She recognized him instantly. The guy from yesterday. Glancing between her sister and Chaol, not sure what to do. Chaol tapped his wrist and pointed at Dorian. Asterin nodded and whispered "Say it."
Her tongue grew thick in her mouth. She shrugged at Chaol. She knew what she'd said to him, obviously, but all she was sure of was that what he said was on her wrist. She decided to give it a shot. She tapped Dorian on the shoulder and repeated the company line one final time: "Hi. Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order?"
The older man whipped around and stared at the girl, ready to lay into her, until he realized that she was holding her wrist out to him. He read the words in his handwriting over and over again, trying to place why they sounded so familiar until it clicked. Starbucks yesterday. When he'd ran out, that's what he said to the barista. He hadn't even thought to look up before he took off. Now, he wished more than anything he had.
After the brief silence grew to an uncomfortable length, she repositioned her hand from showing the white ink on her wrist to offering it to Dorian. "Manon Blackbeak."
"Dorian," he fumbled, reaching out to shake it. He stared at her for a long time, like he couldn't believe after all this time that she was real.
She smiled, pulling his hand closer and looking down at the etching inside his wrist. Her handwriting. Those words. "I thought I'd never see you again after you ran out of there."
"Guess it was meant to be," he answered. In that moment, some 10 years after his ink showed up, Dorian really, firmly believed in soulmates.
TOG taglist: @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves @starborn-faerie-queen @addies-invisible-life
