FicWad

"Excuse me Mr. Tall Dark and Tattooed, but could you order something? You're holding up the line." the dark haired barista snapped, one hand on a slender hip.
"Oh, sorry, just regular coffee I guess, black." he replied, realizing he had been staring at the menu (and, very discreetly, the girl in front of him) for nearly five minutes.
"$1.88" Peter Wentz handed over his money then went to take a seat and wait for his morning cup of caffeine. All the while he couldn't take his eyes off the young woman who had taken his order. Over her white skinny jeans was a black Fall Out Boy t-shirt. He wondered vaguely why she hadn't recognized him.
Long after his coffee had been finished, the line of impatient customers had grabbed their buzz-on-the-go and left. It was now only Pete, a middle-aged man in a sweater vest, and the two baristas. Including his raven haired beauty.
"Hey." he greeted smoothly, resting his inked elbows on the counter in front of her.
"Another coffee?" she asked shortly, obviously struggling with the urge to roll her eyes.
"No, thanks. I'm Pete. Pete Wentz actually." the black haired bassist answered.
"Pete Wentz huh?" she really did roll her eyes at that. Who did this punk think he was?
"Yep. Figured you recognize me eventually. Especially since you're wearing that shirt." Pete chuckled, pointing at the F.O.B. emblazoned across her chest.
"What do I look like? Fly paper for freaks? And what does my shirt have to do with anything?" His eyebrows shot up in surprise, did she just insinuate that he was a freak?
"Let's see, A) you look like a girl with an attitude problem, and B) Fall Out Boy is my band." he retorted, clearly affronted. Who did this chick think she was?
"Oh. I didn't know. This is my roommates shirt." she muttered, avoiding his gaze.
"It's cool. But seriously, what's with the attitude? Bad day? It's not even 10 A.M. yet." Pete cocked his head to one side, studying the girl's delicate features.
"More like bad week. It's kind of personal though." she murmered softly, giving him a weak smile as if all her snap and feistiness had been deflated. She leaned against the counter across from Pete, long locks of hair falling around her face. As he looked, her dark lashes and smooth, fair skin caught his attention. To him, it felt like looking at some new kind of creature, one that he had never seen before. She was so unlike what he was used to. No dyed black hair, no drawn-on eyebrows, no extensions. Using a petite hand to brush her bangs out of her oceanic eyes, a metallic flash caught Pete's. A ring in the shape of a snake wound around her finger, it's miniature fangs noticeable as it engulfed it's own tiny tail.
"Nice ring." he acknowledged, brushing it with a calloused finger.
"Thanks." she replied, grinning. "My name's Harper by the way, I forgot to mention."
"Nice to meet you Harper, and you're welcome." Pete beamed, chocolate eyes flashing in the dim light of the coffee bar. Glancing up at the clock above his head, he suppressed a groan.
"I have to go. Damnit. Band meeting."
"Right, of course. Nice to meet you too." she was looking at the floor, seemingly very interested in the scuffed black tiles.
"Could I maybe have your cell number or something?" his question startled her, and she snapped her head up abruptly.
"Su-sure." she stuttered. "I'll write it down." Grabbing a napkin, she wrote her number down hastily, mentally berating herself for acting like a nervous teenager. He wasn't that cute. He was covered in tattoos for goodness sakes! Although, as disinclined as she was to admit it, she found them oddly attractive.
"Thanks, see you around Harper." he shot her another disarming smile, then headed out the door.
"Bye." she whispered, her voice sounding breathy even to her.