The girl slammed the rag onto the counter, glaring at the girl who had been sitting there for the past three hours. “Mikha, are you serious?”

Mikha, lazily stirring the remnants of her coffee, smirked. “Define serious.”

The girl groaned. “You. Drinking coffee. Again.”

Mikha leaned back in her chair, stretching. “What? It’s a café. People drink coffee here.”

“You’re literally on omeprazole.” the girl crossed her arms. “Do you enjoy messing up your stomach?”

Mikha’s smirk widened. “I enjoy seeing you all worked up over me.”

The girl’s jaw clenched. “I swear, Mikha—”

“What?” Mikha propped her elbow on the table, chin resting on her palm. “You’re gonna ban me from the café?”

The girl exhaled sharply, grabbing the empty cup from her table. “No. But you’re not getting another cup.”

Mikha chuckled, completely unfazed. “That’s okay. I wasn’t here for the coffee anyway.”

The girl froze for half a second before turning away. “I hate you.”

Mikha grinned. “Love you too.”