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Witches live everywhere. They have positions in every work sphere that there is. Many witches have never even known that they come from a powerful heritage of magical practice. Because of the international wipe out, they tried to make themselves go unknown, and so it went like that for centuries. Warlocks and witches, all forgetting who they are. But watch closely, and you can recognize a witch just by their face features.
There are few witches in this world that have obtained back the powers that belonged to them since the beginning of time. Those types have mastered magical practices with the help of old and new books. Dan is one of those witches. In the hidden alleys of London, where there are no massive coffeehouse chains, is located Dan’s coffee shop. It’s one of those gems that people come back flying from another countries to visit. They all want to sip on one of his lattes. Magically, some bring incredible, lottery winning type of luck, some don’t. Of course, the customers have no idea that the barista serving them is a witch that adds tiny amounts of his potions to those who treat him well. His usuals get a drop of luck potion to help them through tough times. When in good mood, he added love potions to those who complained to him about their problems. Nobody knew that he was doing this, except for one person. Or rather one company. His delivery. Once in awhile, he was in need of some rare extracts from different parts of the world, so of course he had somebody to help him get them. For years he’s been in close contact with a company that provided him with everything he needed for a high price. The delivery person was always different, usually dressed casually but with a burgundy suitcase, and their code word was “one honey pie latte with extra whipped cream”. It was a mouthful, but it was the most flavorful drink on the menu which nobody ever got with extra whipped cream. Well, almost nobody, because the delivery person got their latte and in return, Dan got his suitcase filled with sacred extracts. It was good being a modern witch with money.
All changed on an especially sunny day. The summer was riding high, and many were happy and sweaty. Dan’s coffee shop wasn’t filled with people, but those who were there lounged on the sofas had iced beverages on the tables. The bells chimed, and a person stepped in. Dan was struck by their beauty. Diamond blue mixed with silver irises were staring at him, platinum blonde hair peaking from underneath a black cap. Dressed the man was in a white t-shirt that clung tight to his slim figure, baby blue shorts and a pair of white sneakers. He had a burgundy suitcase that stood proudly beside him. Dan immediately understood that this was his delivery person. He tried to not get too much into his feelings and try to stay nonchalant.
“What can I get started for you?” Dan asked, already knowing the answer. The guy had to be an aspiring actor, for how long he stared at the menu, as if he really didn’t know what to order.
“Can I get one honey pie latte with extra whipped cream, please?” The man stared at him with his majestic eyes, making Dan blush. Dan tried to maintain the eye contact, but he couldn’t. Too much pressure.
Once the drink was paid for and made, Dan put it onto the counter. Then, as the ritual went, the man would go to the closet and leave the burgundy suitcase there. The guy came up to the counter and took a sip of the drink, moaning when the extra whipped madness touched his lips.
“Oh, wow, this is really good,” he said. Dan stared at him, confused. He leaned a bit closer to the man, whispering:
“You’re new at this job, right?”
The man looked startled. “What do you mean?”
At this exact moment, the bells rang once again, the front door opening to reveal a person, dressed in a white t-shirt, washed out jeans, black cap and a burgundy suitcase, the same model as the blue-eyed man had beside him. Oh shit, Dan thought. I got it all wrong. The witch walked over to the delivery guy, taking his order. It was no wonder when the customer got the same drink as the blue-eyed man. Dan turned to face the latter, seeing the stunned expression on his face was comical, but the barista didn’t feel like laughing. The delivery guy went into the closet, and Dan was left one on one with the man.
“What the fuck is going on?” He asked, and had every reason to be confused.
“It’s a long story,” Dan replied, not wanting to put too much attention onto himself. All the other customers have already left the place, so there was no point in sugarcoating anything. Even for such a cute guy. The closet door opened, and Dan saw how the man’s blue eyes watched intently the customer, wanting to know more. But there was no way that the witch would reveal his secrets to him.
The closet door had a lock, a strong one. The key was always with Dan, hanging around his olive neck on a red string necklace. But the man was fast and clumsy, knocking down a plant while rushing to enter the closet. Dan ran after him, accidentally ripping his necklace when the plant hit his face. He pushed the man to the wooden floor of the dark closet, letting the door close with a loud bang. Only when they were locked did Dan understand in what situation he was. Searching for his key, he found none.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” Dan muttered. The man was already standing, lending Dan a hand, which he accepted, because there was no point in fighting in little space.
“Are you gonna kill me?” The man asked, his voice quiet, echoing into the dark walls. Dan went to turn on the lights, blinding himself immediately. Once he blinked a few times, he saw that the man’s black cap was absent. Now he could see the platinum blonde hair. It suited the blue eyes in front of him.
“What?” Dan blinked.
“Well, you are a drug dealer after all, aren’t you?” His voice was high, and his blue irises were eyeing the burgundy suitcase. Dan started laughing.
“Mate, you got it all wrong. I am not a drug dealer, just a…” witch was on his tongue, but he stopped himself just in time before the man would also start laughing.
“A what?” The man didn’t want to be left on hanging, wondering who he was.
“That’s a long story. Better to say, I’m nothing you should worry about,” Dan averted his eyes from the man’s. “Wait, I still don’t know your name.”
“I’m Phil. And you’re Dan, aren’t you?” Phil extended a hand. Dan shook it, confused on how did he- “It’s on your badge. Your name.”
“Oh, shit, yeah,” Dan smiled, showcasing his dimples to Phil. The blue eyes were watching the witch, trust beginning to appear behind the irises as he grinned.
“That’s a relief! Now, how are we going to get out of here?” Phil walked around the tiny room, bumping into the suitcase with his long legs. Dan remembered how his necklace got ripped, leaving the key on the floor, buried underneath the soil of his plant and ruined pink flowerpot.
“I hope help is on its way. We can just sit and wait,” Dan sat down onto the cold floor, taking a comfortable pose and watching Phil do the same.
It took professionals three hours to open the door. But Dan didn’t want it to open. Because those three hours were the happiest of the witch’s life. Phil made him feel comfortable enough to bring up his childhood, passions, and even open a little door to the witchcraft into the conversation. He tried to lie about what was in the suitcase, but unfortunately, Phil was a fast leaner who already understood when Dan wasn’t telling the truth. The witch told him about the elixirs, saying that he used them to enhance the flavor of baked goods and syrups. Maybe because it was partly the truth did Phil believe him. The blue eyed man also told him about his life, loses and wins. As it turns out, he just arrived back to London from his trip to his hometown. In his burgundy suitcase were gifts for his friends. Dan wanted to facepalm himself for thinking that his elixirs were there.
“I guess I owe you a coffee for what you’ve gone through,” Dan said once they were out of the closet. In reality, he just wanted to see him once again.
“I would love that,” Phil smiled earnestly, making the witch grin, showing off his dimples. “Though I think I also owe you one.”
Dan’s smile disappeared, now a confused expression sitting tight on his face. “Wait, why?”
“The misunderstanding,” he tilted his head towards the two identical suitcases, standing closely to each other.
“Ah, that,” Dan’s smile reappeared. “Then we should meet up for more than one time.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Phil giggled, and Dan felt something strange, as if butterflies were fluttering their wings inside of his stomach. Meeting up with this man for more than one time sounded like a dream come true.
…
The four coffees that they were supposed to have turned into countless meet ups. Now Phil didn’t need to pay for his drinks, and Dan learned from early on that he didn’t need to add love potions to them. Because Phil’s love for him was more than enough. Sometimes it was a bit too overwhelming, but those moments were rare. Dan of course knew that there were obstacles that they would have to face in the nearby future. Such as the fact that he has yet to tell Phil about his nature. But for now, he didn’t have the courage to open up to such level. Dan just wanted to enjoy being in Phil’s arms, laying under an old, big tree, watching as its branches swayed side to side in the light breeze. It was a warm august day outside, the coffee shop was closed, the couple was out in the park, as relaxed as they could possibly be.
It’s been exactly a year since they first met. Sometimes fate works in mysterious ways, that is for sure.
“Hey,” Phil called him, his voice soft as Dan got out of his daydreaming. The witch looked at him. “Would you still love me if I was a snail and you were a French man?”
“You’d be the most delicious meal, for sure,” Dan said, a serious expression on his face.
“Hey!” Phil pushed him lightly, making the witch let out a laugh. The blue eyed man also couldn’t help but giggle. They enjoyed each other’s company, and maybe, that was the most important thing.
The end.