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Obligatory Coffee Shop/College/Modern AU
May. 27th, 2016 01:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolfehawke2am on a Saturday and Hawke's not alone in the Owl's Nest, the campus coffee shop nestled in the trees between the pristine steel and glass facade of the Wynne Medical College building and the Aequitarian research library. By it's location, Hawke not being alone at such a late hour as to be early isn't an odd thing in and of itself. The cafe is open 24/7 year round save for Satinalia and First Day, and it's the only one on campus with such hours, making it a favorite haunt for those who tend to keep equally long hours, like any student during finals, or art, theatre, and medical students all the time.
What's really odd isn't that Hawke isn't alone in the shop but more that there's only one other person there. Usually by this time the bars are closing up and Varric or Isabela or both come wavering in on unsteady feet, looking either for a place to sober up or just to animatedly recount the evening's exploits to their friend, but since the last time Isabela was in here there was almost a brawl and Hawke got docked a weeks pay over a toppled espresso machine, it's no wonder they'd steer clear. No, it would be more accurate to say that the odd thing is that there are only two people in the shop in the wee hours of the morning.
The other denizen - or rather, the only customer - is a hunched, incredibly tired looking man clearly too old to be an undergrad but by how much Hawke can only guess. Based on the bags under his eyes and the hollow of his cheeks, he'd have to guess at least a hundred. Aside from the obvious lack of care for his appearance, Hawke finds the man interesting, and not just because he's putting off making more whipped cream or cleaning or the other millions of things he's supposed to do when it's slow like this. He may be unkept with a days worth of stubble, but the flash of his amber eyes when he'd put in his order had caught Hawke's attention. The long fingers he'd handed over his student card with even moreso, freckled like his face and with pronounced knuckles. Hawke had made the drink quickly for him that first day he'd ordered, but since then the lanky upperclassman had come in nearly every evening the last week and a half and Hawke had gotten creative.
Anders, he'd found out easily since he'd had to write it on the orders, was graced with Hawke's poor artistic skill as he slowly mastered latte art. Shapes, flowers, and the occasional poorly constructed animal face featured prominently each time Hawke delivered Anders' drink, though never once had he received a comment. He has to wonder if it's a completely wasted effort considering Anders never seems to actually look at his drink before swallowing it. He seems like one of those who just needs the caffeine and doesn't savor it, though Hawke can't imagine savoring something with six shots of espresso in it. How he still looks so tired when consuming that much caffeine is a mystery.
Still, Hawke continues his quiet bid to get noticed, this time with a rudimentary cat face. It's a bit lopsided and the whiskers are askew but it's at least recognizable. Pleased with himself, Hawke brings the oversized mug over to the little table his only customer occupies and sets it down carefully with an air of triumph. "Here you are, sir. Six shot latte with light foam."
What's really odd isn't that Hawke isn't alone in the shop but more that there's only one other person there. Usually by this time the bars are closing up and Varric or Isabela or both come wavering in on unsteady feet, looking either for a place to sober up or just to animatedly recount the evening's exploits to their friend, but since the last time Isabela was in here there was almost a brawl and Hawke got docked a weeks pay over a toppled espresso machine, it's no wonder they'd steer clear. No, it would be more accurate to say that the odd thing is that there are only two people in the shop in the wee hours of the morning.
The other denizen - or rather, the only customer - is a hunched, incredibly tired looking man clearly too old to be an undergrad but by how much Hawke can only guess. Based on the bags under his eyes and the hollow of his cheeks, he'd have to guess at least a hundred. Aside from the obvious lack of care for his appearance, Hawke finds the man interesting, and not just because he's putting off making more whipped cream or cleaning or the other millions of things he's supposed to do when it's slow like this. He may be unkept with a days worth of stubble, but the flash of his amber eyes when he'd put in his order had caught Hawke's attention. The long fingers he'd handed over his student card with even moreso, freckled like his face and with pronounced knuckles. Hawke had made the drink quickly for him that first day he'd ordered, but since then the lanky upperclassman had come in nearly every evening the last week and a half and Hawke had gotten creative.
Anders, he'd found out easily since he'd had to write it on the orders, was graced with Hawke's poor artistic skill as he slowly mastered latte art. Shapes, flowers, and the occasional poorly constructed animal face featured prominently each time Hawke delivered Anders' drink, though never once had he received a comment. He has to wonder if it's a completely wasted effort considering Anders never seems to actually look at his drink before swallowing it. He seems like one of those who just needs the caffeine and doesn't savor it, though Hawke can't imagine savoring something with six shots of espresso in it. How he still looks so tired when consuming that much caffeine is a mystery.
Still, Hawke continues his quiet bid to get noticed, this time with a rudimentary cat face. It's a bit lopsided and the whiskers are askew but it's at least recognizable. Pleased with himself, Hawke brings the oversized mug over to the little table his only customer occupies and sets it down carefully with an air of triumph. "Here you are, sir. Six shot latte with light foam."
