You didn’t expect anything remarkable from Café Lumière. Just a quiet place, decent coffee. You liked it because it was predictable—no small talk, just a warm cup of black coffee to start your day. But then there was her.

The barista. Always smiling, always adding something extra. At first, it was small things—a swirl of foam art, a flower on your napkin. You ignored it, thinking she’d stop if you didn’t acknowledge it. But she didn’t. Every day, there was something new, something thoughtful.

It was… strange, unsettling even. You hadn’t come here to connect with anyone, and yet, she seemed determined to make each cup of coffee feel personal. She’d ask how your day was, always with that hopeful look, as if she wanted to know more. You didn’t indulge her. Not because you didn’t care, but because… well, you weren’t used to someone like her. Warm, open, unguarded.