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order up, cupcake

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Carmilla didn’t mean to become an employee, much less a coffee shop employee. She had much bigger dreams for herself, she thinks. When she was a child, puffy-faced and so very naive, she had pictured herself in long, sturdy heels parading around the halls of her extremely large, extremely well run, and extremely sexy corporate show. She wasn’t sure what exactly she would run - Apple, Samsung, Toyota - she didn’t really care. All she knew is that she was a natural born leader, and she really didn’t like being talked back to.

Being a coffee barista went against everything she stood for, if she were to put it that way. But she still had hopes, she did, and she knew she couldn’t get through college on pure snark and sultry alone. That said, it wouldn’t stop her from trying.

Her very first day on her job, in fact, was a prime example of that.

“May I take your order?” Carmilla asked nonchalantly, dragging her nails through her hair and rolling her eyes at the mere situation she had found herself in.

“Uh…” the man in-front of her sighed, obviously disheveled and in no mood to make decisions, “a large coffee latte, please.” He scratched his head and nodded as if he were making a decision with himself. Carmilla snickered at his uncertainty, thinking about all the bigger decisions in life then deciding what flavor of coffee to order. She would later learn that this wasn’t such a small decision after all.

“Yeah, okay,” Carmilla said, scribbling down his order on a notecard and handing it to the barista behind her. The other barista, Lafontaine, a small, ever sleepy graduate student offered Carmilla a giddy smile and took the notecard out of her hands.

“It’s eight AM,” Carmilla rolled her eyes, “don’t try so hard, or you’ll start to lose it.” Lafontaine shook their head and laughed; Carmilla realized then that Lafontaine was definitely a morning person. Carmilla also realized then that she definitely was not.

“Excuse me?” a sleepy, young voice interrupted their silent feud and Carmilla returned her gaze to face a smiling, sleepdeprived college girl dressed completely head to toe in sleepwear, and holding the most embarrassing computer case she has ever ever seen.

“Excuse you?” Carmilla said, trying to hold her laughter back after observing the girl’s doctor who, panda bear themed laptop cover.

“Sorry,” the girl shook her head, “I haven’t gotten much sleep.” She offered Carmila an apologetic smile. Carmilla didn’t return it.

“Been there, honeypie,” Carmilla replied, “like, everyday of my life.”

The girl coughed awkwardly, trying to return to the task at hand, she continued, “I’ll… um… I’ll have a coffee coolattee.”

“Coolattee?” Carmilla grinned.

“Yeah,” the girl affirmed, a bit off.

“Do you mean a coolatta? Or a latte? Or both?” Carmilla said, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

“Uh…” the girl dragged her hands through her hair anxiously, her cheeks flushing at her mistake, “to be honest, I’ve never ordered from here before. Or any coffee shop, but I realized I can’t really pull all nighters with only chamomile tea.”

“Huh,” Carmilla smirked, “well that’s new.”

“Yeah…” the girl dropped her gaze to the floor, a bit flustered, “so… any recommendations?”

Carmilla couldn’t help her grin now, and she couldn’t help her fluttering heartbeat, either. The girl was cute, she couldn’t deny it. Or, well, she could, but she chose not to.

“Hmm…” Carmilla smirked, dragging her finger along the register as she noticed LaFontaine waving to her in the back of her eye.

“What is it?” Carmilla asked, a bit annoyed at her interruption.

“We just got our pumpkin spice lattes in,” Lafontaine whispered, winking at Carmilla with in a ‘i-know-that-you-know’ kind of way. Carmilla laughed dryly and returned to face the girl.

“I’ve got something I think you might like,” Carmilla said smoothly, winking at the girl from across the counter. The girl, unsure what to do with her face, grinned and looked around the shop, trying not to look Carmilla in the eye.

“Sounds good!” the girl chirped. Carmilla wrote down the order on the notecard but stopped.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Carmilla said, her voice much too sultry to be proffesional, “I need your name. It’s a coffee shop thing.”

“I know that much,” the girl rolled her eyes affectionately.

“So?”

“It’s Laura.”

“Well then,” Carmilla smirked, “order’s up, Laura.”