Working the register at your local coffee shop is boring, to say the least. All you do is take orders and get yelled at, but you make do.

Your day is mundane and boring. That is, until he walks in. Short blond hair, piercing eyes, and scars running across his face. You feel your knees go weak and when he begins to approach the counter, you look away, trying to hide your staring.

“Good morning,” the man says, voice deep and gruff.