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4 "I Like that Song."

You wake up early for your first lecture, which starts at 7:30 in the morning. You despised this class because of how early it started, and unfortunately for you, all the course sections that start at later times got filled up before you could attempt to register for it.

As such, you would combat the tiredness in the morning by going to the campus coffee shop attached to the school library. Every morning, order your iced hazelnut latte with a toasted croissant and make your way to class as you ate your breakfast.

Today was no different from your usual routine. Wake up to your obnoxious alarm at 5 in the morning. Lay in bed as you scroll through your phone for roughly ten minutes to "fully" wake up. Get up from bed, get changed, contemplate your life briefly as you head out your door and enter your car to head to campus for your morning coffee before the dreaded lecture.

Entering the coffee shop, the smell of coffee beans and light music filled your senses. A calming jazz song, Blue in Green by Miles Davis, played throughout the café. You walk up to the register and briefly look up at the menu. An odd habit of yours, even though you continually order the same thing each time you visit the shop.

You hear footsteps from the kitchen doorway; you look away from the menu and see a tall, dark-haired man with a messy low bun walk up to the register. "Good morning," he greets in a soft but deep tone. "What may I get for you?" he asks before looking in your direction.

You are slightly taken aback by this man, thinking that this barista is quite good-looking. Such a shame you didn't pay much attention to the workers who made your order until today, "he must be new here," you thought

You are slightly taken aback by this man, thinking that this barista is quite good-looking. Such a shame you didn't pay much attention to the workers who made your order until today, "he must be new here," you thought. 

"Oh, you again?" he questions, "Do you want your usual, an iced hazelnut latte with a chocolate croissant?"

You raise an eyebrow, puzzled about how he knew your order immediately. You swore you had never seen this barista before when you would come in. 

"My usual?" you questioned, uncertainty slipping throughout your tone.

"Why, of course. You're the only person who comes around 6:15 almost every other morning and order a medium, lightly iced hazelnut latte with chocolate," he responds teasingly, almost proudly, as he states your order.

Holding back your laughter, "Okay, it appears you got me there," you jest. 

The man nods, "So, do you still want that for your order, then?"

You look up, placing a finger on your chin as you contemplate your order. "Hm, I think I will go for a muffin this morning," you state. 

The handsome barista grins, "Oh, adventurous today, are we?" he states as he types in your order. You nod, "I guess you can say that. Nothing wrong with trying something new, right?"

"Nothing wrong with that. One medium lightly iced hazelnut latte with a muffin for my favorite customer coming right up," he teases in a slightly flirtatious tone. You catch onto it, but let it go so as not to jump to any conclusions.

You shake your head softly, "Your favorite customer?" you mused, "Since when?"

"Since today," he cooed, "That will be $7.25. Cash or card?" he asked while looking at you.

While the barista recognized your order, this was the first time he saw your face so closely. He was taking in all of your facial features. The way your eyelashes curled and fluttered with each blink. The small wrinkles that formed on your face with each expression. Usually, he would brew up drinks, never taking orders. However, on this fateful day, he was left alone, allowed to indulge in your presence.