café con leche || j.p.

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The crisp, warm air of the beautiful Los Angeles morning greets you gently but firmly as you step out of your apartment. At first, it feels lovely after stepping out of your freezing apartment since you left your air conditioner on too low last night. It seemed that with each step you took that morning, padding across the floor of your apartment, it dared to blow out a frosty breath, creating a wave of goosebumps traveling from your bare ankles all the way up to your body. The Tundra that was your apartment this morning only caused you to get ready faster, ten minutes faster to be exact, and you decided a jean jacket would suit best for your outfit since you were already freezing.

Yet, you realize you should've left it at home as you take your first few steps into the sunlight. A sigh escapes your lips as you gently shake it off and tie it around your waist, before returning to your journey down the road towards your favored cafe. On your free mornings, your favorite place to be is sitting by the window of the small coffee shop, a book in one had with a cup of coffee with milk in the other.

Upon entering the shop, the bright faces of the barista's there greet you kindly. You smile brightly, opening your mouth to say your order, the same one you always get, but you are cut off by the cashier.

"That'll be $3.99." She says with a wink causing you to burst out laughing at the fact every single worker knows your order by heart. It happens nearly every time but never fails to make you smile.

The harmonic laugh catches one not-so-regular person off guard as he turns to gape at you. Being the oblivious girl you are, you simply hand the cashier your card to swipe, unaware of the stranger watching you.

As soon as the receipt is placed in your hand along with your beverage, you turn to find the cream. Once the beverage turns a beautiful light brown, you stop stirring and pouring before gently snapping the lid back onto the cup.

"Excuse me, I—" A stranger begins behind you just as you spin around. In an instant, the coffee that was once in your hand soars through the air before splashing rather inelegantly onto your shirt. A gasp escapes your lips as the hot liquid splashes against your cool skin, just before the paper cup bounces across the ground. The big brown stain on your white shirt stands out like a sore thumb, causing your head to snap up to look at the person in front of you who knocked it all over you. Once you meet their eyes, you too almost hit the floor like the coffee cup did moments before.

The wide dark brown orbs staring back at you resemble your once deep brown coffee. It seems you're both wearing the same expression— wide eyes and a slacked jaw, forming a perfect 'O' between his pink lips. Both of you stare back at each other for what feels like minutes before he finally makes the first move.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" He suddenly exclaims, running to grab napkins and holding them out to you before you can even respond. A laugh escapes your lips causing him to furrow his eyebrows as you take the napkins, begging to blot your shirt.

"It's okay! I'm not mad. It was an accident! I mean you didn't purposefully spill coffee on me, did you?" You raise an eyebrow at him making his eyes widen yet again.

"No! No— I swear I didn't!" This only makes you laugh harder as you throw the soaked napkins away into the nearby garbage bin.

"I'm only joking with you." This makes a slight pink tinge work its way onto his cheeks along with a timid grin. Aw.

"I'm Y/N!" You introduce, sticking out a hand. Surprisingly, he takes it, giving it a firm shake.

"Joel Pimentel. Can I buy you a new coffee?" He offers, obviously hopeful. The cuteness of his features leaves you speechless for a moment, your brain completely jumbled up. Before your mind can even logically find an answer, your lips answer for you.

"That'd be lovely." The grin that takes over his features seems to brighten up the room a few notches, also causing a sudden warmth to work its way over you, which you decide to blame on the coffee spilled over your chest.

As soon as the fresh cup of coffee is placed in your hand and you add your cream, you lead him to your favorite seat by the window. He takes the seat across from you, beaming at you as you meet his gaze. With parted lips, you stare at him, unable to form an audible word, but he stares back, completely unphased. When he realizes you aren't going to start the conversation, he does.

"Do you come here often?" He begins, and the flow of conversation doesn't stop for a while. It seems you pretty much have everything in common, from music taste, to food taste, to common goals. The ease of talking with someone like you're doing right now comes from two options: a long search or God, but absolutely never out of coincidence. Within the first hour of talking, you knew meeting him wasn't a coincidence, and within the second, you knew it was fate.

The time you two have spent talking doesn't seem to take a toll on you until the bright rays of the sun begin to blind you in the window. When you check the time on your phone, you're shocked to find out it's been four hours.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," Joel begins, standing up from his seat, "We should do this again sometime though."

"Yeah, I'd like that a lot." You grin brightly making Joel's face light up like a Christmas tree.

"Can I have your number?" With an excited nod, you take the phone from him, creating a contact name for yourself. When he takes his phone back and looks, he bursts out laughing.

"The girl I spilled coffee on? Really?" This makes you laugh as well.

"I set it as the nickname. If you want to take me on a date, don't you dare change it." A bright flush takes over his features as he stutters for a moment, trying to recollect himself.

"Fine, I'll leave it as it is then. I'll text you later, Y/N. It was really nice meeting you." Once you exchange goodbyes, he's gone, but as soon as he's out of sight, your phone vibrates.

Unknown number

Call me crazy, but now I really don't regret spilling that coffee all over you amor—Joel xx

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