Almost every other day after your classes, you find yourself situated by the window seat in the café that was a block away from your campus. It was a relatively small one that housed only a good handful of customers at a time, apart from those who stop for a quick coffee run.

It had quiet, warm and homey atmosphere, which gave you a better alternative from the college library that was always crowded these days. You’d often come here to study, listening to pre-recorded lectures and taking notes over a cup of coffee.

And speaking of which, the coffee was great.

Not only did it taste good, but it was obvious that the barista behind your beverages took extra time and care into making them. There was always something engraved on the surface of your lattes, drawn articulately in milky-foam and cocoa powder. Rosettas, tulips, swans…even variations, or combinations of all those things. It was always something different. On the rare occasion, there were even three-dimensional foam pieces, shaped into small animals, such as bears and kittens, with their faces and details drawn in chocolate syrup–those were your favourites.

It was a seemingly insignificant detail that you found yourself appreciating a lot–after all, life was too short not to admire those things, so you had to hand it to the barista's artistic liberties. For all they cared, they could've just added a dollop of milk into your latte, and call it a day–but they didn't. More often than not, you would snap pictures of them on your phone before taking your first, tentative sips, almost as though subconsciously guilty for ruining the art.

Before leaving each time, just as a means to show your own regards for their efforts, you always left small, random notes on napkins beside your empty cup and saucer. It was either a 'thanks' with drawn smiley-faces, or even a simple bidding of a good day.

However, on a random early afternoon, when one of the staff brings out your beverage to your table, you expected nothing but the usual. As you kindly thanked them, you peered down into your cup, wondering what was in store for today.

This time, the surface was bordered with a milky chasing hearts design, with a single one in the dead-centre of it. Engraved in chocolate syrup, it read: 'you're cute'. Nonetheless, it was still pretty to look at, but it was the message itself that catches you off-guard, flustering you a little.

You instinctively raise your head, shifting your gaze towards the counter on the other side of the room. There, you see the blue-eyed barista in question, standing behind the coffee-machine. His name was Leon, which you came to learn a while back, having read his name-tag in passing. He was a regular staff member here in the café, which you had the pleasure of seeing in your visits–you never really talked to him, apart from exchanging brief words over the counter as you ordered your usual. Though, you knew he was in-charge of making your lattes.

Pointedly avoiding your gaze, he looked as though he was silently questioning his actions in obvious embarrassment as he wiped down the machine with a dampened rag, the tips of his ears brightening in a pinkish hue.