One Shots | Formula 1

CS♥

"Doesn't get better than this."

The soft chime of the café door announced the arrival of another day, and with it, the promise of something extraordinary. The familiar scent of freshly ground coffee beans wafted through the air as I wiped down the counter, preparing for the morning rush. Little did I know that today, like the others before it, would be anything but ordinary.

As I glanced up from my task, there he was—Carlos, the enigmatic guy who had been making a habit of starting his day at the café. He had an air of mystery about him, his dark hair slightly tousled, and his eyes holding secrets only hinted at in their depths. It was as if he carried the weight of a thousand untold stories on his shoulders.

"Morning," he greeted with a half-smile that hinted at a playful spirit beneath the mystery.

"Good morning," I replied, my heart doing a subtle dance. It wasn't just his magnetic charm that caught my attention; it was the genuine interest he showed in the simplest of things—the weather, the latest book on the shelf, or even the origin of the café's name.

In the beginning, our conversations were brief and centered on trivialities. He'd ask about the specials, comment on the weather, and inquire about my day. Each exchange felt like a carefully orchestrated dance, a delicate balance of curiosity and respect.

As the days unfolded, so did the layers of our interaction. Carlos began sharing snippets of his life—a favorite childhood memory, a passion for stargazing, or the story behind a well-worn leather bracelet he always wore. It was in these moments that the café transformed into a canvas, each word exchanged adding strokes to a painting of a connection blossoming.

One rainy morning, he walked in with a small umbrella and a grin that held a mischievous spark. "I come prepared," he teased, holding the umbrella aloft.

I chuckled, "Impressive. Most people in London just complain about the rain."

"Most people don't find joy in the simple act of staying dry," he mused, his eyes meeting mine in a shared understanding.

Our laughter echoed in the cozy space, mingling with the hiss of the espresso machine. It was in these shared moments that I felt a warmth, a connection that transcended the confines of the café. Carlos wasn't just a customer; he was becoming a friend, someone who brightened the early hours of my day with his presence.

One afternoon, the sun casting a warm glow on the café, Carlos lingered a little longer than usual. "Tell me something about yourself," he urged gently, his eyes searching mine.

Caught off guard by Carlos's request to share more about myself, I hesitated, glancing around at the bustling café. "I appreciate the curiosity, but I've got to get back to work. Time's not exactly on my side."

Carlos leaned in, his gaze unwavering. "Come on, it's early. A little detour won't hurt."I laughed nervously, feeling the warmth creeping up my cheeks. "I've got a job to do, Carlos. I can't just chat all day."

"Fair enough," he conceded, a playful glint in his eyes. "How about this? A quick exchange, a snippet of your life, and I promise not to keep you from your duties for too long."

I sighed, realizing that arguing with Carlos might be futile. He had a persuasive charm that made it hard to resist. "Okay, fine. But make it quick."

His smile widened, and he began with a simple question, "How about a hobby?"

I chuckled, relieved that his inquiry wasn't too personal. "Probably reading, I love curling up with a good book and a cup of coffee."