Vanilla Latte

Every day, like clock work, the same question was presented to him and every day the same answer was given in return. Every day, except for today … “Welcome, what can I get for you today?” Jacob stared, light browns confused beyond recognition as he found not the usual brunette behind the counter … but a blonde. The blackhead shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and admittedly bit at his lip as if he was unsure of how to answer the question presented him. It was never the question he was asked, and had not been the question he’d been asked in nearly three years. Not since he’d come the first time, and the brown eyed brunette that usually took his order said it once, and never again. Not since a short male with curly hair took it upon himself to tease him every chance he got and admittedly it was something the cop had gotten used to. “A large coffee with cream please …” The words fell from his lips almost regretful for they were not the usual ones to first fall from his tongue. ‘Jakey, are you going to get my favorite today?’ ‘Do I ever get your favorite?’ ‘Well, you could just buy me my favorite sometime.’ ‘Get one of your boyfriends to come buy it for you.’ ‘But I’d rather you buy me my Latte. Jaaaakkkeeee’