Imagines (everyone)

Just imagines really:) request one maybe? Xx

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2. Long Imagine 1: Harry Styles (Pt.1)

Working in Costa is amazing. Especially in London, you have no idea how many famous people like Coffee... Well... Everyone likes coffee...

"That'll be £2.46." I say, smiling as the customer hands me the money.

I like giving people coffee. I'm, indirectly, warming up their day! The smell of the coffee used to overwhelm me. I remember my first day. I threw-up. I don't like the smell of coffee, let alone a coffee shop. I thought I'd never get past the smell, but I did. Now I can't smell it at all. 
I do daydream a lot. I think about my friends, my dreams, hopes, wishes. I often get interrupted by the most ignorant people who grunt or 'tut' at me. It annoys me.

"Excuse me, darling?" A man says in a husky voice. 

Darling... Does he really have the right to call me darling? That voice... Do I know it from somewhere? That song in the background, isn't it Katy Perry? All these thoughts run through my head in the split second before I look up. And then, I did.

Wow.

His green eyes. That smile. It could bring world peace. How could someone in Costa Coffee be that good looking? Wait... Are good looking the right words? Angelic. Amazing. Stunning. All these words come to mind when I looked at him. 
I smile. 

"Hi! Hi... Uhm... Hi-hey. Um. What would you, um, like?" I stuttered. Shocked by his appearance.

He smiled. "Caramel Frappe please, love." 

I smiled again. What was I doing?! Embarrassing myself, that's what. I told the guys behind me to make the Frappe for him as quickly as possible. I'm talented you see, when I like someone, I can talk to anyone else without losing eye contact with the hottie in the room. That... Was him.

"What's your name, love?" He said, leaning over the counter. 

He was tall. Really tall. 6ft 2"? Maybe. Maybe more. Probably not though. I'm small myself though. 5ft 3". Long black hair, down to my waist. A big bottom, I must admit. Some say I look like Kim Kardashian. I agree.

"Phoebe. Phoebe Sharkey." I said, beaming. 

"Nice name. You look like a Phoebe. I'm Harry, by the way." He put his hand out for me to shake, I took it.

'ding!' The Frappe was ready. It had pure white foam on top and a golden swirl over it. Caramel, mmmm.

"That'll be £3.45!" I said cheerfully, trying not to acknowledge the fact that he'd be leaving soon.

I wanted to ask him out, but that's his job. I'm not shy, I just don't ask guys out. That's bad, I suppose. I'll end up single for life...

Harry looked up from his curls and said; "Hey... Can I... Um, get your number. I mean, if you don't have a boyfriend or anything..." 

My body froze. Is my mouth open? Better close it. Wow! He just asked me out! Me! Oh my gosh. Wow. That's just... Wow.

"Um, sure!" I said.

I handed him my number and he walked out head down, reading the badly figured numbers on the white card.

(THERE WILL BE A PART 2 TO THIS!)

 

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