The smell of roasted coffee beans lingers in the air as you wipe down the counter, your fingers absently tracing patterns in the stray coffee grounds. The morning rush has passed, leaving behind a quiet lull, the kind that makes minutes stretch longer than they should.

Then, the bell above the café door chimes.

You don’t need to look up to know who it is. The familiar sound of lazy footsteps, the rustling of an apron slung carelessly over a shoulder—it’s Duan Jia Xu.

“Morning,” he greets, his voice smooth, carrying that usual unbothered charm.

You glance at the clock. “You’re late.”

He grins, completely unfazed. “Only by a little.”

You toss him a clean apron, which he catches effortlessly, tying it around his waist with practiced ease. He moves behind the counter, sliding into the space next to you as if he’s been there forever. In a way, he has. It’s been months of working side by side, of rushed orders and shared sighs, of stolen breaks and quiet conversations over cups of lukewarm coffee.

He nudges your elbow. “Slow day?” You gesture to the empty café. Duan Jia Xu chuckles, reaching for the espresso machine. “Guess that means we’re stuck with each other.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. Because as much as he gets on your nerves, shifts with him are never dull.