Phil wrapped his fingers around his coffee cup and leaned back in his chair, reading over the document he'd been working on for the past hour. He took a slow sip, letting the warmth settle in as the familiar ding of the coffee shop door caught his attention.
His eyes lifted automatically.
Right on time.
The curly-haired man stepped inside, shaking off the summer heat before making his way to the counter. Phil watched discreetly over the rim of his cup as the man ordered what seemed to be his usual drink. They'd never spoken, but after months of sharing the same Friday morning routine, Phil had memorized it anyway.
He forced his attention back to the glowing screen of his laptop, correcting a spelling mistake he'd somehow missed three times already.
A moment later, he heard the scrape of a chair.
The curly-haired man settled into the table beside him, slipping his laptop from a worn backpack and opening it with practiced ease.
Phil couldn't help but wonder what he worked on every week.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a notification appeared on his screen.
Battery low.
"Crap," Phil muttered quietly.
Luckily, he always packed his charger.
He reached into his backpack and turned slightly, spotting the outlet behind him. Just as he reached for it, another hand moved toward the same spot, a cord already in its grasp.
Phil's eyes followed the arm upward, and he froze when he realized it belonged to the man sitting beside him. He quickly pulled his hand back, just missing the chance of their fingers brushing.
"Sorry, I didn't realize you were using it," Phil said, meeting his eyes for the first time.
The man looked up, and for a moment, Phil forgot what he was even apologizing for.
"Oh, you can use it," he said with a small smile. "You were here first. It's my own fault for forgetting to charge it last night."
"No, no, it's okay," Phil replied quickly. "I can just move to the other table and use the plug over there."
He pointed toward the outlet on the opposite side of the table.
Before he could overthink it, Phil saved his document, closed his laptop, and slipped it into his bag. He grabbed his coffee and moved to the table on the other side of the man.
As he plugged in his charger and reached back into his bag for his laptop, he glanced over.
The man was sitting back down, plugging in his own charger.
And then, as if sensing he was being watched, his eyes flicked over.
Phil quickly looked away.
But not before he noticed it.
A small dimple appeared on the man's cheek as he smiled to himself.
Phil had never seen it before. After all these Fridays sitting beside each other, he had somehow never had this view of him.
He looked back down at his laptop, a smile tugging at his own lips.
Maybe he should finally say hello.
The thought lasted all of three seconds before every possible way it could go wrong flooded his mind.
What if the man didn't actually want to talk? What if he was just being polite? What if Phil had completely imagined the connection between them?
