Welcome Back

The heavy scent of a fresh brew permeated through the entire building, fulfilling the traditional and homely atmosphere of the coffee shop and snapping the daydreamer out of his trance. He found himself staring down into the darkened depths of a coffee pot, holding it like a ball by its steaming glass surface bare-handed, unaffected by its searing heat. Shaking the daze off, its current and only inhabitant indulged in its simplicity, taking a deep, silent inhale before releasing a heavenly sigh from his lips, eyes crinkling into the shapes of crescents. Only the light shuffling sounds of the barista as he made preparations accompanied the gurgling and screeching of the coffee pots as he attended to the brew, setting it back beneath its drip. 

Despite its current emptiness in its early hours, these were the moments where he did not feel so alone, having the comfort of his thoughts and memories to guide him through the early hours. Though they were tainted with pain and sadness, those were the ones that truly made himself him. 

The barista was a rather young man only just over the twenty-line, lean and fit with a baby face, adorned with a naturally kind and warm smile.  He wore a simple uniform, a beige polo shirt—buttons completely fastened—tucked into dark pants secured by a belt. With straight and neat dark hair and bright dark colored eyes, he was nothing special to behold but radiated a faint warm aura about himself. The young man found himself fiddling with the nameplate just an inch over his heart which read in white block letters—Jace. 

Distractedly readjusting his nameplate, he did not seem to take notice of the entering patron, flicking his head up to meet the newcomer's gaze. 

"Nita..." He let her name escape his lips with a hushed tone, stuck between a sigh and a plea of forgiveness. The month had begun with chaos in the form of projects after projects flooding his desk like a bipolar hurricane; at first, coming in at a steady beat before releasing large downpours at the most inconvenient of times. He could count the number of hours of sleep he had per week on one hand; that bothered him none. The fact, however, that he couldn’t count the number of days he had gone without her presence on both hands bothered him greatly. 

So when he finally—finally—had the chance to visit her, he took the opportunity in a blink of an eye. He stood outside her door for a minute, pacing back and forth, reciting lines in his head. Several times, he looked down at his phone, contemplating sending her a message to let her know he was here. Though he was almost sure she could already hear his frantic pacing and his heart beating itself into his head. Not aware of his own eagerness to see her, his hand had moved of its own accord, curling itself into a tight fist, rapping quickly against the door. The rhythm of his heart caught in his throat as he stood there, wide-eyed as his mind had realized what his body had done. In a panic, he turned left then right and left again before the click of the latch and sound of the turning knob had ceased all his functions. Regaining his composure as soon as he lost it, silver eyes glanced down to meet her natural earthly gaze. Immediately, a soft but longing smile tugged against the edges of his lips and he took a step forward.

Reaching for her, he took her hand in his, running a thumb over her knuckles with a loving tenderness. Lifting their caressing hands to his lips, he kissed the back of her hand with such a gentleness it was as if he were caring for a dandelion, afraid to breathe away its beauty in his admiration.

His light gaze followed her own wary glance behind her, an eyebrow slightly perked up in mild interest and curiosity before resting his sights on her face. He held back a self-assuring smile when he noticed she seemed to have taken in his appearance, her look of approval feeding his ego just a bit; normally, he'd return the gesture but instead kept his eyes well above her shoulder level, an amused smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

He remained silent for a moment, allowing her the leeway to draw her eyes about his workspace, not minding the visual invasion even a bit. As her interest was in his desk, his was in the way she picked the office supplies in a delicate manner, the way her eyes ran over them appraisingly as if she'd expect to find some sort of dirty secret within the stapler, and the way her eyes fluttered when she blinked, lips parting as she took a breath... Realizing he was staring, he forcefully shifted his eyes towards the door in a casual manner before she'd take note, pretending as if he was checking for anyone coming into the office.

"Sorry, not a big fan of photos," He admitted with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, reaching a hand out to adjust a stack of folders on his desk, the need for organization getting the better of him. His attention drifted back to her with a professional smile that hid a bit of flirtation. "I prefer seeing people face to face if possible. It's much more personal, which I see you had the same idea yourself as you're in my office, probably when you aren't supposed to be.”