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theycalledmeacurse) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rogue_america2017-03-08 12:55 pm
theycalledmeacurse) wrote in rogue_america2017-03-08 12:55 pm
Southern Belle Coffee Co.
Three years. It was hard to believe sometimes, those years having flown by as she adjusted to the new universe and being among people who went about their normal, everyday lives with no concept of how easily it could all end. She'd had a hard first few months, coming to grips with everything she'd been through, grieving for all she'd lost, but after a while she'd started trying to live again. After six months of simply working at a coffee shop, she'd decided to begin the process of opening her own. Drawing on the advice of people she'd met in this world and her own, she put her full energy into getting everything sorted out for the new business. It had taken time, of course, but eventually the long months of finding the best location, the best equipment, and the best suppliers, she'd opened the shop with a soft, understated flourish.
They were a hit with the neighborhood. It was better than she could have hoped, customers gushing about the open, airy space that was full of bright yellows and light greens, decorated with framed photos of iconic southern images - big houses with wrap-around porches, blooming magnolia trees, overflowing baskets of peaches... Patrons loved the in-house roasted coffee, praising the smoothness of their pour-over and the flavor combinations of their lattes. Their baked goods weren't bad, either, the cupcakes and miniature pies almost always selling out by closing time.
Rogue was so involved in her work that she could almost forget that there were superheroes in this world, too. They weren't as plentiful here as in her universe, not yet anyway, but the city always seemed to be abuzz with the latest exploits of Iron Man whenever he came to town. Tony Stark had even stopped in once for a cupcake; she'd been off that day, and the employees still talked about it, the group photo they'd taken posted on the wall back behind the counter.
That photo was nestled among all the others they'd taken in the months since the shop had opened. Everyone learning how to operate the roaster, tasting espresso during training, snapshots of the most intricate latte art, and everyone just generally goofing off and having fun. She'd been lucky to find a lovely group of people to join her on this adventure, from college students to off-off-Broadway actors to mothers just looking for a way to earn a little extra money for the family. Everyone gave 110%, in part because they saw how hard Rogue herself worked - she practically lived at the shop, and she genuinely cared about each of her employees. They'd been open for a little over a year now and not a single person had quit, which she liked to think said something.
The days were getting warmer, that deliciously cool weather of spring letting the shop open its windows to let in the breeze and entice customers inside with the scent of fresh coffee in the air. Rogue was back behind the counter, taking orders and preparing drinks just like her employees, her nametag reading "Marie" affixed to the uniform shirt they all wore - a mossy green color with Southern Belle Coffee Co scrawling across the chest, a pink and white magnolia blossom beside the words. She greeted the next customer with a bright smile and an enthusiastic, "Hi there, sugar, what can I get for you?"
They were a hit with the neighborhood. It was better than she could have hoped, customers gushing about the open, airy space that was full of bright yellows and light greens, decorated with framed photos of iconic southern images - big houses with wrap-around porches, blooming magnolia trees, overflowing baskets of peaches... Patrons loved the in-house roasted coffee, praising the smoothness of their pour-over and the flavor combinations of their lattes. Their baked goods weren't bad, either, the cupcakes and miniature pies almost always selling out by closing time.
Rogue was so involved in her work that she could almost forget that there were superheroes in this world, too. They weren't as plentiful here as in her universe, not yet anyway, but the city always seemed to be abuzz with the latest exploits of Iron Man whenever he came to town. Tony Stark had even stopped in once for a cupcake; she'd been off that day, and the employees still talked about it, the group photo they'd taken posted on the wall back behind the counter.
That photo was nestled among all the others they'd taken in the months since the shop had opened. Everyone learning how to operate the roaster, tasting espresso during training, snapshots of the most intricate latte art, and everyone just generally goofing off and having fun. She'd been lucky to find a lovely group of people to join her on this adventure, from college students to off-off-Broadway actors to mothers just looking for a way to earn a little extra money for the family. Everyone gave 110%, in part because they saw how hard Rogue herself worked - she practically lived at the shop, and she genuinely cared about each of her employees. They'd been open for a little over a year now and not a single person had quit, which she liked to think said something.
The days were getting warmer, that deliciously cool weather of spring letting the shop open its windows to let in the breeze and entice customers inside with the scent of fresh coffee in the air. Rogue was back behind the counter, taking orders and preparing drinks just like her employees, her nametag reading "Marie" affixed to the uniform shirt they all wore - a mossy green color with Southern Belle Coffee Co scrawling across the chest, a pink and white magnolia blossom beside the words. She greeted the next customer with a bright smile and an enthusiastic, "Hi there, sugar, what can I get for you?"
no subject
He gently pushed her hand back toward her chest, before leaning back and picking up his coffee to take a sip. His eyes closed involuntarily as the flavor burst over his tongue and lingered, full and rich, and unlike anything he expected from a plain black coffee. "...definitely undertipped you," he muttered.