Coffee, My Dog ✔

Coffee, over me.

June 26th, Sunday:

The cold , withering air was nipping my cheeks as I hurriedly started walking on the pavement, along the road from my apartment to my weekend favorite. The Coffeehouse.

I did this every Sunday morning, I skipped heavy breakfasts and instead just went to drink some coffee at the Coffeehouse. It gave me a sense of much needed peace and tranquility. It made me feel like I'm the only one in the whole wide world.

Sunday morning, hardly any people around. Most of them are probably still sleeping soundly in their beds. But I wasn't really the ' laze my ass on the couch cause it's a Sunday' kind of a person. I was more on the ' It's a Sunday, go outdoors and have some fun ' side. Sure, my weekdays, just like most of them were hectic, but sitting idle was just not my thing. Busy life makes you like that. Once, you're accustomed to it, it's hard to not do anything. Somehow, doing nothing is really tiring.

I blew out a breath and start rubbing my palms. I pull the sleeves of my hoodie to cover my fists and then dig them in the pockets of my hoodie. I shudder as a wave of cool breeze hits me. It never snowed, it was just really cold.

After a walk of ten minutes, I reached the familiar red bricked building. The Coffeehouse was once a residence, later it was converted to a café. It was decorated with teakwood artifacts and almost everything was coffee themed. The tables were round and metallic, embossed with floral designs. Wall hangings and decorations were hung on the glass windows.

I pushed the handle of the glass door and made my way inside. The smell of coffee and bread embraced me. Instantly  I felt warm and I was beyond glad.

I took a seat by the window. Just watching the exceptionally empty street, without the usual city bustle of vehicles and pedestrians that I was so used to.

My eyes caught sight of a familiar blonde. My breath hitched in my throat. I swallowed nervously. He was looking magnificent as ever in his green sweater vest and jeans.

He was bobbing his head to a song that was playing in his ear phones. His eyes closed, eyebrows creased and lips pouted. The corners of my lips tugging into a full fledged grin. Just looking at him, made me smile.

I don't know if he came here everyday, but I get a load of him on every single Sunday morning I have spent here, at the coffeehouse.

After placing my sling bag on the table, I made my way towards the counter to beseech for a cup of coffee. The place was still dark despite the soft yellow light cast across the room.

I could see a faint silhouette of a man advancing in my direction, but I wasn't really sure. As I got closer and closer, I heard his raucous voice. His attempt to sing obviously failed him. He sounded like a foghorn.

" You're my favorite song, my sing along. You shine bright like lighters in the dark. And you're my clarity, the best part of me. You still make my crazy little heart go BOOM!!"

He got me at the last part, not because it felt like the song was addressed to me. But because he flew back and then resiled, his frantic dance moves made him spurt all the contents of coffee on me.

His eyes widened in realization and his face twisted into a frown.

" Oh, fuck! I didn't see you there, man. I'm so sorry." He apologized quickly.

I visibly cringed. Hearing the f-bomb, first thing in the morning clearly indicated a very long and bad day.

If you expect me to go and lash out on him and unleash my inner arrogance, you expected wrong, he is my crush, for god's sake! If spilling coffee all over me is what it takes for him to get to notice me, then be it.