You glanced at your watch, the numbers flashing up relieving a tight sigh from your chest. Twenty minutes until the end of your shift. Taking the pitcher away from the steamer, you wiped down the end and poured the warm milk into the rich coffee swirling around in the cup, deftly directing streams of foam into a spiralling pattern that slowly orbited the surface. You dusted your hands off on your apron and handed the latte to the customer with a smile, taking the change that was slid across the counter in your direction. Finally, the café was quiet. Some customers sat at far tables by the windows, but most had taken their drinks to go on account of the bright summer’s day. With a sigh, you reached over to the coffee machine to clean the filter, before your eyes darted back down to your watch. Fifteen minutes.

The bell above the door tinkled as it swung open, and you rolled your shoulders, preparing your customer service persona once more. The man who strolled up to the counter, however, seemed to disarm you in all of ten seconds: his eyes were a startling shade of brown, impossibly warm and clear, with a rosy tint to them and a challenging glint that gave you pause; his dark hair fell into his face, though as you looked closer, you could’ve sworn the air around him was shimmering like a heatwave; his skin was bronze and almost glowing, and your eyes followed his hand as he drummed his fingers on the edge of the counter. While he avoided your gaze entirely, eyes locked on the menu hanging above your work station, he exuded an air of amusement as though all of his attention was, in fact, on you.

“Hmm… so many options. What would you recommend?”