prompt: ‘You give me a different fake name every time you come into the coffee shop and I just want to know your real name bc you’re cute but here I am scrawling “batman” onto your stupid cappuccino’ for anonymous
word count: 3751
Bellamy loves his stupid coffee shop. He loves the way it smells, he loves the way it feels—warm, without forcing it—and he loves his obnoxious coworkers, even if Miller is perpetually snarky and Raven is perpetually smarter than him and smug about it.
He does not, as it were, love it when his cute, blonde regular comes in and keeps refraining from using her real name.
Or, rather, he likes that she comes in. Less that he doesn’t know her name.
He knows it’s never her real name, too, because it’s not like she just uses different, generic names each time. Instead he gets told, on a nearly daily basis, to scrawl the name of a different fictional character on a paper cup. She had a Harry Potter streak last week, names ranging from the golden trio to more obscure characters whose names he doesn’t know how to spell. (Ask him how he feels about Xenophilius.)
The first time she came in, it was Aerith which, he supposes, could be her name, except he wagers the chance of finding someone whose parents named their child after a Final Fantasy character is pretty slim this early into the twenty-first century. As it is, he’s just kind of embarrassingly psyched to find someone who’s into his favorite video game franchise.
He scrawls the name on her cup, without comment—because somehow he thinks that makes him seem cool? He can hear Octavia’s disappointed sigh already—and catches her slight look of surprise at his lack of response. She pays with cash, as he’ll come to realize is her norm, and moves down the counter to wait for her drink.