Midnight Coffee

Chapter 3

Mary's POV

I walked into the cafe that I had been in hours ago. I then made my way to the counter to order.

"Hi, what would you like?" the barista asked.

"Just a black coffee."

She nodded and wrote down something on the cup.

"Name?"

"Mary."

The girl proceeded to scribble again.

"€5 please."

I took the money out of my coat pocket, only to be stopped by a deep voice.

"I got it."

My head whipped around to see the man from earlier.

"Uh, I- no it's okay. I got it," I muttered.

His lips tipped into a smirk as the worker already began to make my drink.

"Um, thanks," I said, although I was uncomfortable with letting someone else pay for me.

I took a seat near the counter, tapping my nails against the table.

"Mary!" the barista called my name, signalling that I should go and get my coffee.

After taking the cup, I took a seat at the chair I previously sat in.

I cupped my hands around the hot cardboard, soaking in the warmth.

The man sat down at the table across from me again, with a drink settled near his notepad. 

Something about his aura drew me towards him. I wanted to find out who he was.

Normally, my confidence wasn't high enough for me to approach a stranger and strike up a conversation.

This time, it was different. My curiosity was killing me. Therefore, I strode over to his table and sat right across from him.

I took a sip of my coffee as I studied his facial features closely. This mystery of a person now had black glasses framing his eyes; giving him a sexy and wise look. He responded toward my staring by closing his notebook and drinking his beverage as well.

"'Ello," he greeted simply.

"Who are you exactly?" I asked, not caring if that came off as rude.

A light chuckle escaped his lips.

"Well, Mary, why would you like to know?"

How the heck does this guy know my name?

My confusion must have shown on my face because he replied saying, "It says it on your cup."

He pointed at the object in my hands, and in fact 'Mary' was written in big letters.

I quirked up a brow.

"And how do you know that Mary is my real name? I could have come up with a fake one. People do it all the time."

"Touché," he replied.

"I'm just pushing your buttons aye. I'm Mary," I said, extending my hand.

"Zayn," he introduced, shaking my hand.

I smiled.

"Oh! My last name is Green, like the color."

"Nice to meet you Mary Green Like The Color, I'm Zayn Malik."

"Don't get cheeky now," I warned.

He laughed again.

"How old are you?" he questioned.