You push past the doors and pleasantly, you are greeted with a short ring of a bell strung above the door.

Clad in the nicest clothes you could scramble together after a morning of classes, you brushed your palm against the creases, nerves swooping in your stomach.

As you contemplate turning around, you catch sight of a man looking just as nervous— if not more sitting lone at a booth. You approach him despite your own nerves. He looks up at you and his eyes are soft.

“Oh, Hey.”