It's the small moments. . .

Idiot

It's the small moments that makes Kyle think if he's creepy at all. 

He sits in the same spot every time after he gets his order, and stays there for as long as he possibly can. 

It's been the same thing going for the past week or so. But it's not like he has nothing to do there; he's an accountant, and the cafe seems to be the best place to work in than the boring confines of his own home. 

After receiving his morning dose of caffeine Kyle shoves the receipt in his pocket, sipping the hot drink as he begins to work on whatever project he's been assigned with. 

The sounds of the keyboard puts the accountant in a trance, almost creating monotonous music with the keys as he writes a business e-mail.

Meanwhile, the barista heaves a grump at the busybody, eyeing his pockets in frustration. "This idiot."

It's the small — no, the long moments that Kyle dislikes about his job.

Three hours pass and the accountant still seems just as busy as the time he settled into his work zone. Sighs leave his lips as he finishes one document after another, just another linear routine in his field of work.

"I think I'm gonna be stuck to a wheelchair doing this shit," he says to himself.

Kyle figures that a break would be nice, so he does just that. The cafe is near-empty, sans the few patrons making small talk with the barista boy.

He does several arm stretches on his seat, before standing up to do a few more. In the midst of his ergonomic wellness he sneaks a few glances at his crush, marveling how nice his side profile was and how that jaw could sl—

"Oh shit." Their eyes suddenly meet, forcing Kyle to retreat back into his seat and to his laptop, making himself busy again — but it backfires, and he doesn't feel so natural in his seat anymore.

The barista could only chuckle at the other's reaction, before focusing his attention back at the patrons.