(Y/N) danced past the sharp corners of the café, balancing metal trays. They expected at least a "Thank you." but instead, the customer greeted them with nothing but a cold glare. With eyes lost in a book, ignoring the whirring static in the background, the customer hadn't even picked up a spoon. All of this for minimum wage, too. That customer was new, but now continued to come- every, single, day. Curious questions began to fill (Y/N)'s head, but they never could've known that this fateful encounter would grow into something more.. intimate. cover credits: garumill on Twitter