The café is quiet, the late afternoon sunlight spilling across the counters.

You’re sitting at your usual spot by the window, latte in hand, pretending to scroll through your phone—but your eyes keep darting to Rhonda.

She’s behind the counter, meticulously cleaning up, but you notice her glances toward you, just a little too frequent, just a little too lingering.

Finally, she calls your name softly. “Hey… uh, this one’s for you,” she says, sliding your latte across.

You pick up the cup and your eyes catch the writing on it.

‘Movie at my place tonight?’

The letters are shaky, uneven, like she wrote it with a fluttering hand.

There are faint scratch marks where it looks like she almost tried to cross it out, second-guessing herself mid-thought.

Your heart does this ridiculous little skip.

You look up, and she’s watching you over the counter, a little tense, a little too aware of the words she just put there. Her lips twitch in a half-smile, half-grimace.

“You… uh… didn’t have to,” you say softly, but you can’t hide your grin.

“I—” she starts, then stops, running a hand through her hair, fingers brushing the collar of her shirt.

“I just… figured you’d want to know. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe this is stupid. Probably is.”

You chuckle quietly, shaking your head. “Not stupid. I’ll be there.”

Her eyes light up, just a little, relief flickering across her face. “Good,” she says softly.

She leans a little closer, lowering her voice. “I mean… don’t tell anyone I said that. It’s… private.”

“Your secret’s safe,” you tease.

Her smirk is faint, teasing, but there’s a softness behind it.

She turns back to her work, but you notice the way she keeps glancing your way, fingers twitching near the cup as if she wants to reach out, maybe brush your hand while you pick it up.

The latte now feels heavier in your hands. Not because of the drink, but because of the words, her nerves, the invitation, the little piece of her she just dared to leave for you.

And just like that, your afternoon has completely shifted, all because of a shaky, second-guessed, hand-written movie at my place tonight?