Coffee & Chocolate

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8:04 PM

I looked at my watch and sighed. I was standing in front of my work building, with my bag and lunch bag, staring at the street, contemplating whether I should call Owen to pick me up or just walk over to the nearest bar and sit down for a drink.

The day had been intense at work. Many new interns had arrived, which meant we had to manage both our work and theirs. People were hectic and hostile, and the clients were twice as demanding. I spent most of the day trying to settle the new interns into their tasks and environment.

I barely had time to eat. Most of my lunch was still in my bag, reheated three times with only two or three spoonfuls missing before I gave up trying to eat and continued working.

Not wanting to go back home to work again, I decided to head down the street to one of the bars that also served food. As I frequented the place for lunch or late dinners weekly, the bartender greeted me warmly.

"Fancy seeing you here, Liliam."

I placed my stuff on the stool next to me and leaned my head down on the bar. "The usual."

The bartender laughed, massaging his black mustache. "Coming right up."

He yelled my usual order to the boy in the kitchen. Then, he opened a Michelob and placed it beside my face resting on the cold surface of the bar. "On the house, missy. You seem to need it."

I thanked him with a smile. "Work was hectic. I don't even want to go back home yet."

"Totally understandable. We've all been there."

"Thank you, Tom." I took the cold beer and drank the bitter yet refreshing liquid.

As I did, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle and stand. It was the usual feeling you get when someone is looking intently at you. I shifted my weight, undoing my hair from its ponytail and breathing in.

Through the common aroma of food being made in the kitchen, I could pick up a different and peculiar smell. It was the smell of strong coffee and chocolate. It was a relaxing yet exhilarating scent, sending shivers down my spine. I decided to look back, scanning the room.

My eyes caught a figure in the corner of the room. The man was sitting back in well-fitted dark jeans, one leg slightly crossed, a beer resting on the ankle of his boot, near his knee. His free hand extended to the top finish of the booth he was sitting in. His arms were strong and defined, covered with tribal tattoos going up to his neck. He wore a gray button-up shirt, casually rolled up to his elbows, with the first three buttons undone.

His face was perfectly groomed, his chiseled jaw adorned with a well-defined short beard and high cheekbones. His dark hair was wavy and tousled over his head, slightly falling down his ears.

What hitched my breath were his piercing emerald eyes. Those deep emerald eyes were staring at me with such intensity that I looked away, a blush creeping in.

My heart quickened as I looked at the beer in my hand, trying to ignore the intense stare from the man. He looked like one of those mafia bosses out of a Korean drama—alluring but dangerous.

Snap out of dreamland, I cursed at myself. For all I know, it could be my deprived brain playing tricks on me.

Tom came back with my food, and I thanked him, digging in and ignoring the increasing smell of coffee and chocolate. As I bit into my steak quesadilla, I felt the intense smell near me. Soon, a figure sat down on the stool beside me.

I looked up from my plate and stopped chewing. There was that same man, now sitting beside me. I could see the honey color of his skin up close, his dark green eyes still looking at me intently.

"Please brain," I muttered.

He leaned down, trying to gain my attention back. "Please what?"

His strong voice made me jump. I was chewing when he spoke, and the food got stuck in my throat. I started coughing, and his hand reached out to tap my back. His touch sent shivers down my spine with an electrifying jolt.

"Are you okay?"

I tried to calm down, nodding, and took a gulp of my beer to soothe my throat. "Yes, sorry."

I noticed his hand had not let go of my back, resting there comfortably. He smiled, the most dreamy and captivating smile, and I felt my heart flutter.

"Do—do I know you?"

"I wish I did," he replied, his finger slowly moving from my back to my right forearm to my hand, where I was holding the quesadilla.

He took a small bite off it, his piercing stare never wavering. His face was closer, and the smell became stronger. My breath hitched, my heart now pounding in my chest.

Some girls would classify this encounter as creepy. I would too. But this man had an alluring aura that rendered me like a total idiot in front of him.

"Zeff Gunnolf," he said, his hand touching my forearm with a soft touch. I was surprised that for such a strong and defined man, his fingers felt so gentle.

Or was it just me fantasizing?

"Liliam," I said almost breathless, my gaze lost in his green eyes. "Liliam Black."

The intense smell of coffee and chocolate overwhelmed me, and I was getting lost in the alluring aroma. He gently pulled my hand away from the plate, the quesadilla forgotten, and guided it to his lips. He kissed my fingers, his eyes never leaving mine.

An electrifying jolt ran down my hand, and my cheeks blushed. I wanted to pull my hand away, but something kept me there.

Was it the warm touch of his hand or the alluring aura this man emitted?

"Don't you know how to answer your phone?"

The voice snapped me back to reality as I pulled my hand away and looked at Owen, standing in the middle of the entrance with an annoyed glance at me. He was wearing a tshirt, shorts and flip-flops.

I must have left my phone on Do Not Disturb. I looked down at my bag, and sure enough, three missed calls popped up in the notifications.

"I'm sorry—"

"Hurry up!"

My eyes looked at the man called Zeff, and I almost jumped. He was staring at the retreating Owen with a dark expression, his eyes a deep black color. His muscles contracted, and a low growl escaped his lips.

Wait, since when did his eyes change?

"Nice meeting you, Zeff," I said with a smile, following Owen back to the car. For a second, my entire system stopped, the smell of coffee and chocolate calling me back. With a heavy sigh, I shook my head and followed my partner into my hellhole called home.

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