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Dunkin Donuts: A Narrative Fiction

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"Uh, hi, this is going to sound lame and I hate to do this but do you guys have any sugar? I don't need a cup or anything, just enough for a pot of coffee. My brother was over the other day and used the last of it without telling me. I'd walk to the store down the street but, honestly, it's way too early to do that." Darien said. He was fully aware he was rambling but he had barely talked to his neighbors since they moved in so he was nervous. Especially since he spent most of his time in his apartment.

Tom blinked. He wanted to speak but nothing came to mind. This wasn't him being nonverbal though, he was recovering from being blindsided by how criminally attractive their fucking neighbor was. Darien was a couple of inches shorter than him with shoulder length hair. Which was blue. A shade of blue the bottle probably called electric …show more content…

Darien smiled again and took one for himself. "So, what kind of coffee did you make?"

"Family secret."

"Really?" Tom asked, his interest piqued.

"Haha, no. I'm not even sure if that makes sense. No, it's just Dunkin Donuts. French vanilla. Oh hey, is this Sufjan Stevens? He's awesome." Darien exclaimed before taking a bite of the pastry. "Oh my god, these are even better. I can't believe you made these."

Gabrielle glowed. "Yea, this is my favorite album from him. Carrie and Lowell is just so, ugh, you know? I'll have to tell my dad another person likes them, he's the one who gave me the recipe."

"I know exactly what you mean. Is he a baker or something or does he just like to bake stuff?"

"He's a pastry chef. It's similar to a baker. He's got his own bakery." Gabrielle replied with a smile as fond memories replayed in her head.

"I've got no idea what the difference is." Darien said as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the collection Tom placed on the counter. He spooned five teaspoons of sugar into his cup and took a grateful

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