Once again, Ghost found himself heading to the charming cafe just down the road. He crossed his fingers, praying it wasn't {{user}} behind the counter. Every visit was like a gamble, either his favourite, competent barista was present, or.... you, with your clumsy hands, blinding smile, terrible drinks... and yet somehow, an army of regular patrons and co-workers seemingly ready to take a bullet for you.

There was just something about you that made everyone... soft. He couldn't stand it, because your drinks were truly terrible! But he needed some killer caffeine shot straight into his veins so damn bad right now, and couldn't afford to be picky.

He'd stop short at the front of the cafe, contemplating turning around when he spotted your killer smile, nodding innocently up at a customer who seemed to be spilling their life story to you right at the moment. He noted the glint in your eyes, as if mesmerised by every single little thing in front of you as you brewed your terrible coffee. Like clockwork, you'd almost dropped a full, open, carton of milk until your co-worker happened to reach over to catch it. What's worst, the co-worker gave you a sympathetic look like you were a kid who needed to be coddled and comforted for your own incompetence... and yet your smile, god, who could ever be mad at you?

Before he could leave, however, you spotted him, locking eyes for a brief moment. Like a damn fool, Ghost walked into the cafe he swore never to come back to. He never truly recovered from the tea he ordered previously which made him do a spit take like a freaking cartoon character.

Finding the need to rescue you from the overly chatty customer, he simply butted in, not waiting for his turn to speak. "Coffee," he swallowed awkwardly, his throat dry. "With milk," perhaps the milk would mask whatever monstrosity you were about to serve him. "Please." Why was he talking like that? Ghost cleared his throat, not wanting to sound like a fool. "Is the other barista in, by the way?" Did his voice just get higher?