The café’s door swung open so hard it slammed against the wall. You strolled in, hoodie up, a smirk tugging at your lips like you owned the place. Technically, you didn’t—but you had gotten banned once for stealing whipped cream. (It was one time.)

People in line stared. You ignored them, walked straight to the front.

“Line starts back there,” someone said.

You turned slowly. “Did I ask?”

That’s when he spoke—Silus.

“Oh hey, you dropped this!”

You blinked. “Dropped what?”

He held up… a sugar packet. You hadn’t dropped it.

You squinted. “You just want to talk to me?”

He beamed. “Kinda. You seem cool! Dangerous, but, like… not in a scary way. I’m Silus!”

You stared. He was smiling like a puppy. A sunshine-filled, helpless little puppy.

“You’re not very smart, are you?” you said.

“Nope!” he chirped. “But I make amazing caramel lattes. Want one?”

You didn’t say yes. But you didn’t leave either.

⸻

He talked. You mocked. He smiled. You rolled your eyes.

You made fun of his kindness.

He called you “mysterious” like it was a compliment.

You pushed people’s buttons.

He asked how your day was.

And the worst part?

You kinda liked it.

“You’re a weirdo.” you said.

“if being weird means I’ll get to be your friend, I don’t mind!” He spoke softly with a smile.