#and yes i keep naming the waitress rosemary (so i don't have to type the waitress a million times over)

[mhaccunoval]

imma send u another deetress prompt.. 41? 👉👈

|| 41 - Overhearing they have feelings for you ||

“Just go talk to her.”

“Nope, nope, nope.”

“God, you’re useless.”

“I’m useless? What about Mac?”

“Oh, Mac’s useless all around. You… You usually have some value to me. Until it comes to emotions.”

“Whatever… Either way, I’m not going to go talk to her.”

“Pussy.”

If Rosemary could hear this conversation from behind the counter, then the other patrons in the coffee shop could certainly hear it as well. It was… Odd to see just the twins in here; no Charlie trying to terribly flirt, no Mac hanging off Dennis’ arm, and no Frank to make a scene (likely with a gun pulled). While she probably should have been cleaning the counter or doing literally anything other than eavesdropping, she couldn’t help it. Besides, listening in on customers’ conversations was one of the few perks of working with the public. She hadn’t pegged Dee for a bisexual, even less so a lesbian, but what happened outside of the times the gang tortured her and ruined her life was none of her business, so long as she got left alone afterward. But, admittedly, she was curious as to who the she in the equation was, especially because there were more women in the shop than men, unusually enough, making the odds higher that it could have been any number of them.

Tucked in a corner were two ladies, one with jet black hair and a sheer chiffon skirt, the other with pastel pink hair and what she considered a grunge style outfit, looking too much like a couple already to be counted in. There were a handful blondes scattered around, but at least half looked ditsy— unless Dee was into that, since she sometimes hinted at having a superiority complex. Nearest the counter was a brunette in round speckled glasses, hunched over a tablet, no doubt studying something like philosophy or biology, perhaps too smart for Dee’s tastes. That only left a more androgynous-leaning redhead and a woman with hair clip pinned on her hijab, both of whom Dee would find some way to find jokes about, she figured. The only woman left unaccounted for was herself but she automatically ruled that factor out, knowing there was no possible way Dee meant her.

Oh. She hadn’t considered that maybe the woman they were talking about worked on the same street or was somewhere else in the general area. That possibility opened the bag by a wide margin but it was more plausible than being confined to the coffee shop alone. A new customer walked through the door and up to the register while she contemplated all of this, taking their order and imagining what Dee’s mystery woman looked like as she made the drink. Her first thought was dark hair, olive skin, green eyes, average height, with a decent amount of curves; her second was a short woman, pale in complexion, with a curly platinum bob, pale blue eyes, and a heart shaped face that had cheeks you wanted to squish all day long; the third, but not the final, thought was a Morticia Addams type, tall and slender with an affinity for gothic everything. She almost let out a sigh as she handed over the mug, but caught herself before she did, not wanting it to be interpreted the wrong way.

“Listen, we’re both almost done. Just bring the cups to the counter and talk to her.” Dennis huffed, not satisfied with where the conversation had paused.

“Last time I checked, she was in love with you so you do it.” Dee scoffed, face buried in her hands.

“Yeah, but you’re the one with actual feelings for her, so checkmate.” Her brother retorted, downing the last sip of his latte.

“I hate you.” She growled as she stood up and took a mug in each hand.

“Ditto, bitch.”

Rosemary was occupied with processing the information when Dee set the mugs on the counter, scowling as what was left of her cappuccino splashed back a little and got on her white t-shirt. She hissed a curse under her breath, Rosemary ducking under the counter to grab a napkin and wetting it in the sink, instinctively taking the edge of the shirt in hand to rub the impending stain out. Dee’s breath caught in her throat but she said nothing, letting the other woman clean the spot for her. Stain sufficiently rubbed out, Rosemary dabbed a dry napkin on the spot and threw the soiled paper towels out once the fabric wasn’t soaking wet anymore. In the back of her mind, she knew she should have let Dee take care of it— it was her shirt after all— but being in the zone of feelings and jealous (whether she could discern that it was indeed a daze of that or not) had her absentmindedly take the initiative and commit an act of service. It probably wasn’t going to deter Dee from her crush but at least she had vaguely demonstrated an interest in her.

Dee remained frozen for a moment, unable to move her limbs, blankly staring and trying to plot how to return the gesture. With some thoughtless instinct of her own, she leaned down to kiss Rosemary’s cheek before quickly recoiling and turning on her heel, grabbing Dennis’ arm as she passed their table and dragged him out the door while her face turned bright red. Rosemary blinked, perplexed by what just happened, but put a hand over where she had just been kissed, the spot growing warm to the touch. She had no idea what it meant but the memory of it was going to leave her smiling for the rest of the day and daydreaming of more kisses like it.