#VR-LA correctly clocking that maxim actually hates bitter coffee

[caliburn-not-calculator]

Short thing for my Coffeeshop Au, other fics for which can be found in AO3 as part of the Sweet in You series

Anyway, early days, Maxim notices something weird about his coffee

Maxim hid his grimace behind his steaming mug. The dark liquid was covered by an inviting golden brown crema, but he was well acquainted with the bitterness which lurked beneath. But if he was drinking coffee merely for the taste than he wouldn’t ever have it at all. The fact was, plain black coffee did the job of rapidly caffeinating him far better than anything else, so despite his dislike he suffered through it regularly. It was unpleasant, but he wasn’t adventurous enough to try something else he risked disliking even more.

Though he had to admit, this particular place made it at least mildly bearable.

The small tucked away cafe, the Sprite Spring, named as such for its many indoor plants and pixie logo, was a quality one. The perfect quiet place not far from home for him to work free of his usual distractions. Maxim tapped away at his keyboard, the laptop screen glare harsh in the cosy morning dim, slowly bracing himself for a sip.

Swiftly, as though taking a swig of hard liquor, he down a large gulp. Best to get it over and done with. However, he paused, the earthy bitterness on his tongue still harsh and hot but… subtler. Noticeably more bearable. Sweeter? Definitely so. He frowned, squinting into the mug, his warped reflection peering back at him through the broken crema. He didn’t put sugar in his coffee, it was a matter of some stubbornness and awkward pride he had to admit. He certainly could, but the amount he’d need to add to make it enjoyable was frankly embarrassing, and he’d yet to stoop that low.

He glanced up to the counter. Had his order been mistaken? It couldn’t have, he got the same thing every time to the point where most severs rarely bothered to even ask him anymore, the barista who always seemed present in particular.

He was a young man, shoddily dyed silver hair with large gold framed glasses perched on a thin nose. Even when scrunched in concentration as he worked the coffee machine his eyes were peculiarly large, his focus taking on an intrigued quality. Maxim watched him now. He’d never made a mistake before, and if anything seemed exceptionally competent at his job (aside from his woeful attempts at small talk, but Maxim wasn’t one to judge that).

The man’s lips twitched into a frown, his fiddling with the portafilter pausing as he looked up. For a second, their eyes locked.

Curious… In the sunlight starting to peak through the tall building into the coffeeshop his brown eyes seemed to flare, a low simmering gold ringed by a dark coffee toned halo. Appropriately thematic, Maxim mused. He stared blankly back, before his shoulders jolted, the portafilter slipping from his thin fingers only to be hastily caught with a curse. Maxim yanked his gaze away also, but not before catching the flush which coloured his sharp cheekbones.

Maxim cleared his throat, staring hard at his laptop.

Maybe the young man, Veerle if the named he’d overheard was correct, was having an off day. He did seem rather tired. Perhaps that’s why he’d slipped sugar into his coffee.

Probably.

Why else would he do it?