He was almost there. He was about to meet her, eyes closed. But then the wind chimes loudly sang in chorus that he was interfered. However, that did not irk him. He rather felt fortunate.
Riki welcomed the first customer of the day with his typical spirited greeting and asked if she was going to order the usual—Iced Americano, admiring her celestial eyes in mind. Instead of receiving a warm return or even a single wordless nod, he received a lash of frankness. The ever tranquil Celeste strangely growled at him, saying she was not interested and he should stop giving her the googled notes. She must be so sick of the notes he has been attaching to her coffee cups.
Riki secretly hid the surfacing curve upon his lips. God, even her growl sounds like a lullaby. Her chuckle must be a reverie.
Wait.
What did Celeste say about his self-made notes? He pouted then smiled inwardly.
But those weren't googled. . .
end
