Coffee Shop Roleplay

In the very far corner of the shop, perhaps a little out of the way for someone supposed to be serving customers, a man stands. He is young, perhaps in his early twenties, although too tall for height to make any difference on the assumption. He has the lanky, awkward appearance of someone who grew too much in a very short space of time, and even as he pushes up his glasses onto the bridge of his nose, it's evident that he's new to the world of customer service. His apron is tied clumsily around his lean frame, the knot tied and tied again at a skewered angle. A pen is stuck behind one ear in the way he saw his co-worker place it, although it knots uncomfortably in the tight ginger curls that frame his face. He glances around uncomfortably, dreading the inevitable moment that someone will head to the counter to request a coffee.

He groans, almost audibly, and skirts his way to the counter, decidedly not making eye contact with the customer. Deep inside he's regretting his choice to go into a job with such high social expectations; it's something he has never excelled at, and he certainly isn't about to become an extrovert overnight. He can't mess this job up though - it's his chance to prove that he can lead a normal life without his crippling fear of interacting with people getting in the way. Good, now speak. His internal monologue pipes up, and he fumbles about for the right words.
"Uh, welcome. What- what can I get for you?" They are simple, but it's a start at least.

He misses the words at first, distracted by his own reluctance. After replaying them over and over in his head the meaning sinks in, and he nods. At this point, his skin is nearing the same colour as his hair.
"Oh, sure. I'll just... Get that for you."
And so begins the slow process of moving over to grab a mug, before he turns to the side counter to prepare the cocoa powder. His actions are methodical; he has learnt them by heart from a sheer desire to not mess it up. And yet, he still manages to spill a little cream as he shuffles back towards her to present the hot chocolate. Wordlessly, he pushes it across the surface, completely forgetting in his moment of pride to ask for the money.

He looks alarmed at that. Price! How can anyone be ditzy enough to forget to ask for money? Honestly, he muses, it's a good job he's the only one working at this moment in time.
"Uhm... That'll be..." The man turns his head at an awkward angle to read the board above his head. The brown lettering blurs, and he pushes his glasses up with one finger to read them properly. "£2" he declares at last, an air of triumph about him. "Uh, I mean, £2 please."

His brown eyes meet hers for a moment amidst the confusion as he reaches out to retrieve the coin, but he quickly directs his gaze down again. He's clearly not used to such sincere thanks. It feels nice, he thinks, the smallest hint of a smile gracing his features for just a second before the nervous demeanour replaces it again.
"Oh, it's... fine," he mumbled, shuffling his feet. "Thank you... I mean- enjoy your coffee. Hot chocolate." The words are jumbled and colour floods back into his cheeks as he opens the cash machine to store the coin, accidentally dropping it into the wrong slot.

He stares after her, speechless. The note hangs loosely between his finger and thumb, and he glances down at it, once in disbelief, and then a second time to make sure he wasn't deceived by what he saw. A £5 tip on a £2 mug of coffee is frankly... well, ridiculous.
"P- Peter," he stammers at last, although he isn't sure if she has heard him because she is already sitting down to resume typing. How strange.

He assumes his usual position by the corner, shooting her a curious glance before returning his gaze to the floor again. It's strange, but he feels a little more confident now. One customer down. Who knows how many to go. The mantra is repeated in his head several times, and he finds his attention drawn to the window. It's a pleasant day - too pleasant to be stuck inside. So what is she doing sat in the coffee shop? Perhaps she just loves hot chocolate. He shrugs the idea off, in any case.

... Well, that's another gone. It's ridiculous, that she's managing to down so much of the hot drink so quickly. But at least now, she's most of the way through her essay. Honestly, she has no idea why an engineering student has to write a twelve page essay. She'd much rather be doing the maths and designing products and working out wires and fixing mechanisms, but noooo, she has to work on this for ages. At least she's nearly done. Although, her tiredness is catching up on her, and maybe this time...
It doesn't take her too long to be stood by the counter again, fingers tapping gently on the top of it as she waits. Again, her body is heavily leaning on the solid surface in front of her, expression relatively dimmed now. A coffee, this time, or she'll fall asleep where she is.

A hand runs briefly through the straight blonde hair that stops at her chin, ruffling it from its position and just about ruining the framing of her face. Though, after she shakes her head a little, it seems to fix itself, already used to the style enough to fall back into place. A tired smile is offered in place of a bright one, as a soft huff escapes her lips.
'Not this time. Some kind of coffee now, actually. Whatever you recommend. I kind of need the caffeine.' The look on her face turns a touch sheepish, the hand moving down to rub the back of her neck. 'I should already be done with this paper technically, but I was up working on a different project pretty late last night, so I'm really tired. Engineering student, by the way, though a little more of an artist on the side. Kind of why I want to go more into the architectural side of it, but I also do really enjoy tinkering and machine blueprints and that. Really, not all that sure now that I think about it, but maybe I can wor something out between the two of them. ... Not that you need to know any of this, at all.'