new customer / herb's pov

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*11:30 am*

I filled up my watering cans, making sure they did not overflow. As I heaved them towards the windowsills which were covered in a variety of plants, I heard the bell on the doors ring. I hastily placed the cans on an unoccupied table and ran behind the counter. As the door swung open, a tall, formally dressed, bubbly-haired man entered. His smile was that of someone who had hundreds of admirers, and he probably did. His attire was very well suited for someone like him.  I feel my face flush slightly red as he walks in, approaching the counter with a confident walk.

"Hey, sir. Could I get something?" The man enquires in a naturally flirty tone.

My face goes more noticeably red at his calm way of speaking.

"Of course! What type of coffee do you want? Also, you can call me Herb!" I reply, smiling.

"Hm, I think I'd like some black coffee, Herb." 

His use of my name made me blush harder. I hoped he didn't notice.

"Sure! Wait here a second mister!" I beam before I dash back to make his coffee. I grab a cup and fill it up. Once it's filled up, I carefully place it on the counter. 

"That will be £--.-- mister!"

"Call me Sparkling or Sparky.  Thanks for the coffee, cutie!" He says before he places the exact money on the counter and grasps his coffee. 

I blush again, this time so much it feels like my skin is burning. 'Cutie'?? Was he flirting with me?? ME??? God, this was not helping. Did I like him? But I only just met him? What if he's a jerk with 50 million girlfriends?? No. I suddenly awoke from my chaotic thoughts as a returning customer came and started talking to me. I pushed the meeting with Sparkling to the back of my mind and tried to do my job.

*11:35*

The final customer sat down to drink their coffee, and I looked around, looking to find any customers leaving so I could clean the cups.  As I looked around, Sparkling caught my eye and I noticed he had no napkin. Wanting an excuse to talk to him, I got a napkin and wrote ' message me :) -phone number- from herb '.


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