coffee with cream ━━ s.cb + l.fx

-seven-

The next morning I'm too happy, I don't think I could stop smiling if I tried.

But I walk into the coffee shop with one thing in mind, and that's expectations. Specifically limiting my expectations. He had a fever, the other barista confirmed, and there are a multitude of different words he could be trying to spell that do not include dates or dating or anything to do with the word date.

None come to mind.

And when I walk in he's a ray of sunshine, his smile lighting up the cafe and his warm voice and presence making me fall for him again and again. I can't ever be expected to control myself around him.

I order my coffee, sitting in the corner of the room, and he's watching me. Not only that but he keeps breaking eye contact with me when I catch him, he's almost embarrassed. With all of his confidence and charisma it's not an emotion I've ever experienced or expected from him. And it's a little bit wonderful.

And then I catch his eyes and he holds mine, even as he leans down to write something on the bottom of a napkin. He winks at me, confidence magically returning, and then calls my order.

I hold his eyes as I walk up to the counter, nearly tripping over two tables and a poor elderly couple, but as I reach the counter I can still feel his eyes on mine. His rings are matte silver, thin asymmetrical bands stacked on every finger. I thank him quietly, taking the cup.

And then I break my gaze, walking slowly back to my table, and I make myself sit down and take a drink of the coffee before checking the napkin.

On the bottom is a question mark.

I'm smiling, grinning like a child, and I take another drink of coffee before opening the document, adding a question mark to the end of the string of letters, and I sit and watch the word form in front of me.

date?

I can feel the corners of my mouth twitching but I suppress the smile, hoping to hold my appearance for just a couple of moments longer. So I drain the rest of the coffee, get out a pen, and write my phone number in neat letters under the question mark. I set it carefully underneath the empty mug, bringing it up to the counter, and I lean in close to him, almost too close.

"Refill?" he asks, his eyes almost masking an adorable hopefulness.

"Yes," I say, dragging the s on the end for a little bit too long, and then I cock my head to the side. It catches his attention, effectively focusing it on me. Exactly what I was hoping for.

"But this time with cream."

___________________

-end-

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