Alex didn’t even really like coffee. Yet, he somehow found himself in the same cafe nearly every day, hidden at a table in the corner, away from prying eyes. The sweet aroma of the coffee shop has become all too familiar and the buzzing and whirring of coffee machines had become white noise, the familiarity of it bringing peace.

The first time he ever went was merely because he needed coffee after pulling an all nighter — hunched over his desk with a pen in his hand and a notebook full of scribbled words. He was hardly conscious the first time, but that’s when he saw you, and that alone was like a shot of espresso.

Not only were you easy on the eyes, but the way you carried yourself, the way you smiled at him, even if it was just to be polite, the way you walked, talked, he didn’t even know how to describe you. But he would certainly try…

So, after figuring out what days you worked, he made sure to always be there. He’d tuck himself away at one of the tables in the corner, notebook and cup of coffee in front of him. He always found he got good inspiration for lyrics here. Maybe it was the calming environment or maybe it was because you’d been his muse for a while now.

Normally, he spent about 15-20 minutes there trying to get some lyrics down whilst staring at you more than he probably should. But today after a few mere glances at you, his hand was cramping up from how much he was writing. His tongue poked out ever so slightly past his lips, his face contorted in pure concentration as he scribbled down a mess of ideas that would eventually be lyrics.

Being on your break (and noticing that he’s been staring at you for weeks now), you made your way over to his table and sat across from him. He was in too deep to his lyrics to notice you yet, his hand and pen working quickly on the page.