Frappuccino

Ava 2

Ava hadn't pictured herself ending her shift this way—following a stranger home through dark, cold streets. 

When Damien said he lived "just around the corner," she'd imagined a tidy studio, a cozy setup maybe. But this place was something else altogether. The building's walls were scuffed, cracked paint lining the halls, and the soft hum of city sounds leaked through the thin windows.

Once inside, she took in the dark grey walls, minimal furniture, and the stacks of drawings lining almost every available surface. An old, stained couch sat in the middle of the room, and the only splash of colour came from sketches taped to the walls. 

A bit unexpected for a guy who seemed to have it all figured out. But then again, maybe it suited him. The only spot of beauty was the balcony, dimly lit by the glow of the city and moonlight.

"Make yourself at home," he murmured, tossing his keys onto a rickety table.

Ava slipped off her apron, glancing around. "Where should I...?"

He nodded to a small laundry closet by the kitchenette. "Throw it in the wash. It'll be ready for tomorrow."

Once she'd done that, her gaze drifted to the balcony. She could see a black iron fence, cold and sturdy, with a cushioned spot on the ground that looked like it had been there forever. 

Beyond it, the night sky stretched wide, unfiltered, and the stars sparkled above as though they were close enough to touch.

"That balcony's nice," she said, nodding toward it.

He smiled, following her gaze. "It's my favorite spot. I go out there all the time, stargazing. Sometimes I just talk to myself, you know? Or fall asleep with a blanket, just lying under the stars."

She raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't it get too cold for that?"

"Eh," he shrugged, his smirk playful. "That's part of the fun. You should try it. C'mon."

Without waiting for her answer, he stepped outside, gesturing for her to follow. 

The chill hit her instantly, but she liked it. It woke her up, the sharpness of the air tingling against her skin. She sat beside him on the soft cushions, wrapping her arms around her knees as both of them gazed up.

For a moment, they sat in silence, only the quiet hum of the city below them. 

Finally, he glanced at her. "So... what's Ava all about, besides making perfect lattes?"

She laughed, a short, quiet sound that matched the mood. "Oh, you know. Just a Michigan girl who wants more out of life."

"More?" he prompted.

"Yeah," she sighed. "My friends all seem to have their lives figured out. College, careers, plans. They just... know. And here I am, stuck in Ann Arbor, working shifts at Starbucks, having the same old conversations every day."

"I want to see New York someday. Or Paris, or anywhere else, really. Just... somewhere far from here."