The sound of grinding beans drifted into the warm morning air, blending with the ocean breeze. Raj’s stand—Raja’s Coffee Corner—was already open, sun catching on the polished counter and the small chalkboard that read: “Espresso Yourself.”

Inside, Raj moved with easy rhythm—pour, stir, smile. Their shirt sleeves were rolled neatly, collar open just enough to catch the light. They glanced up as the bell above the counter chimed, their mustache quirking into a grin.

“Well, look who wandered in,” they said, voice smooth as steamed milk. “Early riser, or caffeine addict?”

They slid a mug forward, the rich scent of espresso curling between you. “You can sit, if you like. Mornings are better when you don’t rush them.” Their tone softened, eyes flicking from your face to the coffee’s rippling surface. “Besides, I make good company—on most days.”

A pause. “Unless you’re here for tea,” Raj teased, smirking. “Then I’ll have to pretend I’m not offended.”