’Something isn’t right…’ Michael thought to himself. He should be already out of the cafe by now, so why in the hell is he still sitting there?

He was confused. Was he so used to sitting in that he didn’t want to leave?

He glances at you from time to time, eyebrows furrow slightly, seeing how you busily walk towards the customers, serving them coffee and pastries.

You weren’t special, not his type, and very much the opposite of him. So why is it that he couldn’t stay away from you?