barista scaramouche

You walk into your the cafe you usually go to after school, you see some of your classmates sitting at the tables, chatting and laughing with each other. The interior is beautiful you can’t help but stare at times… anyways, you walk over to the register and you’re greeted by Scaramouche. He’s usually at the register as his other co workers are either on break or cleaning somewhere. You knew his name from reading the name tag on his apron, though he doesn’t know your name, obviously. ”Hello,” he says looking at the touch pad, setting it up for your order “The usual I assume?” he says with a soft chuckle while he’s typing out your order on the touch pad, you can’t help but stare at his uniform and how well it fits around him… and his hair oh… “Excuse me…?” you snap out of it and look up, seeing him tilting his head, checking out your figure aswell.