Yee Haw

You had taken a step back, sighing softly before looking at the papers in your hand, the first letter on the pile, the one with the information about your job, stating the time at which you’d start and who to talk to for more information. You approached the main desk, waiting for the secretary to look up at you, her short brown hair bouncing when she turned her gaze upwards to meet yours, a tired smile on her carefully painted red lips.

“Hi there, how may I help you?” She asked, tilting her head as she spoke. You smiled, “Hi. I’m here for my first day?” you hummed, showing her your letter. “Ah, yes, perfect” She nodded, “well, dear, you’ll have to head up to the third floor, go to your right all the way to the end of the hallway. Dr. Wilson’s office is there, on the… left.” She said, turning her body slightly and chuckling, “he’s the head of your department, so he’ll explain everything else.” She explained. “Thank you so much” You nodded, “and nice to meet you” you added, reaching out to shake her hand, smiling one last time before heading to the lift, waiting patiently for the number on the top to descend.

And that’s when you met him for the first time, his eyes focused on the page in front of his eyes, a report on a patient, you assumed, his concentration only wavering when he looked up at you, moving out of the way so you could press the button for your floor. “Morning” he hummed, studying your face for a few seconds, a hint of a smile on his lips when you replied. He waited for the doors to close before focusing on the report again, pulling his pen out to jot something down.

There wasn’t much to say about him, if not that he was stunning, and pretty, and had a kind smile and kinder eyes, his hair curling so perfectly, especially around the nape of his neck. A quick glance at his name tag revealed his name, M. Garcia, one you made note of, wondering what his first name was many times before his introduction. Manuel? Matthew? Max? Martin? 

The answer came a few days later, when you bumped into him, once again in the same lift, his curious gaze no longer occupied by a report, this time able to fully focus on you. You hummed a good morning when you pressed the usual button, third floor, taking note of how he replied back, his eyebrows scrunching up before they raised when he realized where he had seen you before, no longer wearing the soft dark blue jumper like you had last time, this time wearing a doctor’s coat and scrubs that matched his own underneath it. “Oh. We met the other day” he said, tilting his head as he looked at you, his smile warm. “Yeah” You chuckled, “it was my first day. Or, well, I simply had come to get some information before my first day. But here I am now.” You smiled. “So we’re colleagues.” He hummed, holding his hand out, “nice to meet you. My name is Mickey Garcia, you’ll usually see me on the first floor running around, but occasionally I venture on the higher floors” he joked, glancing at the number on the small screen, wishing the ride had taken a little longer. “Aha, so you’re a nurse?” You asked, glancing at his name tag again, the small writing under his name confirming just that. “Yep. So whenever you need, you know who to call.” He said, winking just as the doors dinged and opened, “see you around” he added, stepping out and smiling at you as the doors closed again, taking you to your own floor. 

After a few weeks, you had settled into a routine. Mornings, sometimes afternoons, occasionally evenings, depending on your shifts, called for a coffee break, one you managed to time just right to match with Mickey’s on most days, happy to see him especially when he was busy with other patients, his company one you missed. “Second floor” Kathrine hummed one afternoon, smiling knowingly when you looked around. “What?” You asked, focusing back on her. “Garcia, he’s on the second floor. His patient, Mr. Hubert, he’s not doing too well, stopped responding to treatment, so they’re trying to figure out what the next course of action is” she explained, “so that’s where your boy is. He’ll probably be around later, though, so don’t worry.” She smirked. “Not my boy” You huffed, rolling your eyes, the blush on your cheeks not helping your statement. “With the way he looks at you? Yes, your boy” She teased, sipping her coffee. “Unrelated, When are you off next week? I need to buy a dress for a wedding and I need some help” She smiled. 

“Honestly, I can’t believe you liked it” you laughed, shaking your head, the steam from your cup rising into the darkness while it warmed your hands, the cold making you shiver nonetheless. He moved closer, his arm linking with yours, warming you up ever so slightly, yet making you blush easily. He always did this, greeted you with an arm wrapped around your shoulder as he asked you how you were, winked at you with a big smile when you crossed each other in the hallways, sometimes rested his head on your shoulder when you shared an elevator ride, usually only if it was just the two of you. “Never said it deserved an Oscar, but it was a fun movie” He smiled, his eyes studying your face as you looked into the distance, the parking lot mostly empty tonight.

He loved the moments he could get with you, an effortless break from the heavier days or from the slower ones, and the added bonus of getting to look at you was one he’d never admit to, but that he loved.

He loved the shape of your lips, or the way your hair curled, or how you laughed when he made a joke. And he loved listening to you, getting to know who was behind the incredible doctor he sometimes got to work side by side with.

“It was weird.” You commented, cocking an eyebrow as you looked at him, chuckling when he grinned. “Yeah, so am I, so you know, works out” he shrugged, laughing when you nudged into him, muttering a shut up and rolling your eyes, his free hand settling on your other shoulder to balance himself, absentmindedly rubbing it up and down over your coat when you shivered again. “Only telling the truth.” He laughed, “and you can’t lie.”

You shook your head, watching as your breath formed a small cloud that soon dispersed into thin air. “Well, maybe I like weird. Not the movie, though, that was just plain wrong” You laughed, missing the way he looked at you, your pager making you glance down, frowning as you read the room number and the surname of the patient on your screen. “Gotta go” You hummed, handing him your cup, “see you later” you said, rushing to the lift and making your way to the second floor as quickly as you could, blushing as you thought back to your words, the elevator ride seemingly endless. He spent the rest of his shift with a question at the back of his mind and a smile occasionally popping on his lips, the words of Mrs. Brown reminding him of you. “And that’s when I met him, so you see, we’ve been together for many years now. And I miss him so much, so make me feel better soon, okay? I’m sick of visiting hours.” She chuckled, looking at him. “I’ll try my very best, Miriam.” He smiled, taking note of her vitals, then reading her folder again, “Actually, I’d say you can probably leave tomorrow” He hummed, pulling the chair closer to her bed so he could sit for a moment, the shift slow enough to allow it. “Yeah?” She asked, eyes lighting with happiness. “Yeah.” He smiled again, holding a hand out for her, “I’ll talk to the doctor that’s following you and if she gives me the get go, I’ll make sure to contact Jorge so he can come pick you up.” He said, closing his eyes. “My doctor, the one you like?” She asked, squeezing his hand softly, a knowing smile on her lips when he opened his eyes, expression dropping at her mention, not really expecting anyone to have noticed, no one other than your colleagues, anyway. “Oh, c’mon boy, you’re not very subtle” She laughed, “You’re always so focused, but when she’s around, you’re focused on her. Which is fine, you’re one of the best nurses that’s ever taken care of me, trust me, but if I may take your role for a moment, you have a severe case of love, child” she grinned, letting go of his hand to pat his cheek.

He sighed, looking the the side, “I… she… Is… great.” He mumbled, nodding, “great doctor. And a good friend.” He said, his crush for you mostly evident, but not one he had openly admitted yet, if not to himself, the increase in the speed of the beating of his heart when he was around you not something he could ignore forever. “A great friend, I can imagine, yeah. And she is an incredible doctor as well, I agree, from what I’ve seen. But maybe she could also be a great girlfriend?” She asked, recognizing in him the same hesitation she had seen in her own son years earlier, too nervous to ask the girl of his dreams out on a date without a little motivation. “I’m not even sure if she’s single” He chuckled, shaking his head, the idea of asking you out making him more nervous than what he wanted to admit. “Did she ever mention anyone?” She asked again, trying to help out. “Nope. And there’s no ring on her finger.” He said, shuffling back in his chair and sighing again, “I have to ask her, don’t I?” He muttered, sighing again. “I’d say so, yeah. You’ll never know if not.” She replied, smiling when he chuckled, squeezing her hand and standing, pushing the chair back in place. “I will. I’ll let you know how it goes” He hummed, winking at her before stepping out of her room, his pager beeping again. 

“I’m sick of visiting hours.” He announced, pushing the chair back and sitting down on it, looking at you with a serious expression, one you only saw on his face when something was up with his patients, his usual smile substituted by focus and sometimes worry. “I… don’t think I can do much about that, Mickey” You chuckled, “I can tell Dr. Wilson, and he can talk to his superiors about it, but I think it might be a State issue. Actually, a Nation issue, and a World issue, too” You hummed, placing your pen down. He sighed softly, smiling and shaking his head, then looked back at you. “Do you have a moment?” He asked, glancing at the documents on your desk. “Yeah. It’s a report, but I can finish it later. Oh, actually, she’s your patient too, maybe you could help me, I have a question or two about what treatment ended up working better.” You said, holding the files towards him before dropping them, nodding when he kept his eyes on you, smile growing. “Sorry” You hummed. “No problem, doctor.” He smiled. “Actually, it’s kinda about her.” He said, the name at the top of the page the one of Mrs. Brown, the one that had, unknowingly, spurred him on. “Oh?” You asked, crossing your legs and sitting back, “tell me more.” “She missed her husband, and was telling me to get her to feel better so that she could see him again, since she hated visiting hours. She wanted him to be around all the time, not only when we allowed.” he explained, smiling at how kind she had been to him, sharing short stories every morning when he checked her vitals, and small morals when he’d pay her a visit. “Well, she must be happy then, since she got dismissed. She can now spend more time with her husband” You hummed, smiling at him. “Yeah. But she also made me realize that I also am kinda sick of visiting hours. With you” He said, clearing his throat as he tried to ignore how his heartbeat picked up. “With… me?” You asked, frowning, “Mickey, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was a Shutter Island type of situation.” You chuckled, biting your lip. He laughed, shaking his head, “It’s… not like that, no. It’s more of a I really like you and I’d like to spend time with you outside of work, too. Because I like you a lot.” He said, his words growing quieter as he spoke, his nerves taking the best of him. You blushed, realizing what he meant. He liked you. And in a perfect turn of events, you liked him too. Takes two to tango, right? “I don’t think I ever saw that film” You hummed, smiling, standing up from your seat and making your way in front of him, sitting on the edge of your desk, caging yourself in between him and the table. He shook his head, “neither have I, but I’d like to. Are you free tomorrow?” He asked, standing up, the distance between you significantly smaller than what would’ve been appropriate usually, his eyes focused on your lips as he waited for your reply. “I am free tomorrow” You confirmed, hand settling on his arm, pulling him ever so slightly closer.  “Lucky me” He smiled, “then would you like to go out with me?” He asked, all of the tension he had felt bringing him to this moment. “I’d love to” You answered, smiling and blushing at the relief you saw on his face, his cheeks growing red, his smile wide and eyes full of warmth, chuckling when he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you softly.

You pulled back after a few instants, gazing at his lips, then studying his faint freckles, then looking into his eyes. You couldn’t wait to kiss him, but more than everything you couldn’t wait to be with him in a different setting, listen to his stories without any rush, tease him and laugh at his jokes and tell your own without the constant worry that your pagers would go off, or that your break was about to end, or dad someone would interrupt you. You couldn’t wait to be with him. To simply be. “Tomorrow, then?” You asked, leaning into his touch when he cupped your cheek, nodding. “Tomorrow.” He hummed, “I’ll pick you up at six?” He asked. “Isn’t the usual pick up time at eight?” You teased. “I can’t wait until eight.” He hummed, leaning forward to press a light kiss to your cheek, unable to hide a smile. “Six it is, then” You chuckled, squeezing his arm and taking a step back, feeling the butterflies in your stomach when he waved at you, walking out of your office with a pep in his step, his smile not leaving his face. 

It was early in the morning when Mickey opened his eyes, his hand smoothing over the sheets while he searched for your body. 

He frowned softly when he was met with only the fresh cold sheets, sighing slightly as he turned to find his phone. Knowing you had probably left for the day already, he decided to send a good morning text, hoping it would put you in a good mood. But deep down, he couldn't help but miss waking up by your side. 

The past weeks had slowly taken a toll on both of you, and there was nothing he hated more than seeing you stressed and exhausted from all that life was throwing your way. Mickey: Hey! Morning beautiful! I hope your day goes well, I’ll see you later :) 

He sent the text with a smile, laying in bed a little longer before untangling himself from the mess of sheets, going through the small routine of airing out the window, making the bed, stretching, then preparing coffee, sleepiness still evident in his eyes. If being on leave did anything for him, it was leaving him relaxed, sleep always being a comfort he enjoyed the most when he was by your side, as well as the walks you’d go on, the simple moments spent chatting in front of a homemade meal and a good film.

You replied an hour later, letting him know that you’d call him when you were finished, and that you hoped he had a good day. He knew you were busy, but still, he missed you. 

-----

You: “i wanna go home :(“ 

Mickey: “want me to come over? Let me know when you finish and we can walk back together 🙈” 

You: “I still have a lot to do :( I’ll try to leave a little earlier but I’ll head home, no need for you to come pick me up. But thank you either way!” 

Mickey smiled when he read your message, hoping you’d get home a little sooner, but also happy to have heard from you, his worries about your tiredness soothing a little bit. 

You were clearly overworking yourself, even if you didn’t seem to notice that, and as much as he was worried, he’d wait a little longer, ready to catch you when you needed. 

-----

The rest of the day went by somewhat uneventfully on his side, preparing some small appetizers for the evening, chilling and going on a walk while he waited for you. Yet on your side? That was a whole other story. You wanted peace and quiet, yet none of colleagues seemed to realize that, plus today had already been challenging enough, with documents and files you weren’t exactly sure how to deal with. 

Not even the ride back home was peaceful, everyone rushing to get back to their loved ones, ignoring anyone that stood in the way, including you.  

And so, when you got home, you couldn’t help the loud sigh that escaped your lips, even if a smile soon took the place of the frown, instantly relaxing when you heard Mickey’s singing coming from the kitchen, pots and pans and spoons and drawers clattering while he cooked. You knew what you’d see if you chose to sneak closer to the kitchen, waiting by the door. You’d find him, probably half-dancing, most likely using your wooden spoon as a microphone, while he cooked whatever delicious meal he had settled on. It was simple, and silly, but you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by it, be mesmerized by him, by his habits, by his way to show love. You glanced around the living room, smiling at the table, already set up, more than one candle bathing the room in a warm glow as you walked over to the few appetizers already on the table, stealing one and taking a bite, humming at the taste. “Aha!” He called from the kitchen, making you jump, his smile big while he pointed his (microphone) wooden spoon your way, “I’ve caught a thief.” “Mickey,” You chuckled, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss, yawning softly when your head rested on his shoulder. 

“Tired?” He asked, taking a breadstick from the table and biting it, the crunch of it breaking the silence.

“That’s an understatement” you chuckled, yawning again, “I’m glad tomorrow I can sleep.” You hummed, looking to your side as you wondered if that was the case. 

Was there something you were forgetting?

Ah. Yes. Plans. 8:30am. Tomorrow. 

Nothing that would take too long though-

“So?” He asked, grinning.

“Oh. You might have to repeat that.” You blushed, feeling sorry for your lack of listening.

Mickey chuckled, shaking his head and waving his hand, “you’re tired, it’s fine. I was telling you about the new exposition that’s opening in a week? Would be nice to go see it.” he said again, smiling softly. “Ah, absolutely, yeah! Sounds great” You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes, smiling. “Thank you.” You whispered. “No need to thank me, love.” He whispered back, hand smoothing over your arm, “Now, go sit down, you need food, then sleep” he chuckled, walking back to the kitchen, the clattering of plates picking back up while he served his meal. 

-----

It was on the third day in a row of waking up alone that he decided that it was enough. He could forgive week days, considering that you couldn’t exactly miss work, but now it was Saturday, and he had seen how tired you had been the night before, barely making it through dinner without yawning, then falling asleep on the couch while he was talking. He knew his voice was soothing, but this was more. 

And so he waited, hands crossed over his chest and the most dramatically annoyed face he could put on when your key turned in the lock, tired steps carrying you into your home. 

It was 10am, early enough to still have the day to yourselves, but still, his morning cuddles had been sorely missed.

“Hi!” You called, not noticing he was right there until you glanced to the side, letting out a quiet yelp. “Okay, that’s very serial killer vibes of you, Mickey.” You teased, pushing past him and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as you did, heading to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water. Mickey couldn’t help the smile on his face when you kissed him, nor the chuckle at your comment, so he just followed, arms wrapped around you while you drank, soft kisses pressed to your shoulder. “Miss you” he mumbled softly. You sighed, leaning into him and humming, “I miss you too.” 

He smiled at your words, placing another kiss to your shoulder. “So, Miss Busy Bee, any other plans for the weekend?” he asked, bracing himself for what he knew was to come. “Tomorrow at two I technically have to head out.” You mumbled, chuckling when his hold tightened. "Nope," he hummed playfully, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

"Mickey," you laughed, trying to wriggle in his arms to face him. His embrace tightened around you, caging you against the counter, and one of his hands found its place on your hip.

"You need sleep," he insisted, his eyes soft yet determined, as if he could see through every layer of exhaustion you were trying to hide. He cherished every detail of your face, savoring the memory of each moment spent together.

"I think at 2 pm I'll be done with sleep," you playfully retorted, your voice tinged with tiredness. "I'm tired, but—"

"But what, love?" he asked, his tone teasing, raising an eyebrow with a smile dancing on his lips. He leaned closer, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. "You need to get some sleep," he repeated, letting his words hang in the air for a moment. After a beat, he took a step back and reached for your hand, gently pulling you towards the inviting comfort of the couch.

"Now?" you teased, well aware that you were tired enough to fall asleep right there, but part of you also longed to spend time with him, to unwind and relax in his arms.

"Well, later," he chuckled, his smile making his eyes crinkle with affection. "We can have breakfast in bed, followed by cuddles, kisses, and maybe a movie." He raised his eyebrows with a pleased smirk, knowing well how tempting his offer was.

"Breakfast in bed, cuddles and kisses?” You asked, laughing, “I think I can cancel those plans for tomorrow," you muttered, leaning into his body, feeling his arms instantly wrap around you, soft touches trailing along your arms.

"Yeah?" he asked, grinning, gently swaying with you before he stopped, smirking again. "Change of plans," he declared playfully, pulling you away from the couch and back into his chest. 

He moved with a sense of purpose, guiding you to the bed and pushing you down onto it.

He leaned in to kiss your lips, starting with a gentle peck that soon deepened into a passionate embrace, leaving you completely enamored. Mickey's hand found its way to cradle your cheek, his touch gentle yet filled with a fiery passion that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers traced a path along your jawline, his touch eliciting soft sighs from your lips, surrendering to the blissful sensation that swept over you.

With every passing moment, the kiss deepened, becoming an unspoken promise of love and devotion. 

Your fingers entwined with his, holding onto him as if he were your anchor.

As the kiss finally broke, a trail of soft breaths lingered between you.

Mickey's gaze locked with yours, his eyes reflecting a love so profound it left you breathless.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice carrying a world of emotions.

“I love you too.” You said back easily, unable to hide your smile. 

"I'll make coffee," he whispered, his voice a sweet melody. "Get comfortable, and I'll be back." He hummed, standing up, holding your hand until it reluctantly fell from his grasp. 

He walked to the kitchen, his footsteps quietly pattering on the floor. As he walked, you couldn't help but watch him with adoration. The way he moved, the grace in his steps.  Once he was out of sight, you settled into a more comfortable position on the bed, letting out a contented sigh.  The room felt warmer now, and not just from the candles and the cozy setup. 

True to his word, he came back with a tray of steaming coffee cups, and the sweet aroma filled the room. He set the tray down on the bedside table before sitting beside you, his eyes locked on yours once more.

"Here you go," he said softly, handing you a cup, his fingers brushing gently against yours.

"Thank you," you replied, taking a sip and relishing the warmth that spread through you, both from the coffee and from his touch. "I think you make the best coffee," you said, smiling at him gratefully.

Mickey chuckled, his eyes shining with affection. "Well, coffee has magical powers, but it's nothing compared to the power of your smile."

Your heart fluttered at his words, chuckling, "Flattery will get you everywhere," you teased, playfully nudging his shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I plan on going everywhere with you," he replied, his voice low and filled with a mixture of tenderness and playfulness.

"Smooth talker," you teased, trying to hide the blush that crept up your cheeks.

Mickey leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Only for you."

His fingers traced gentle patterns on your hand, lips kissing your cheek as he settled back by your side. 

"We're so lucky, you know," he said softly, breaking the silence.

"Lucky?" you repeated, meeting his gaze curiously.

“Lucky, yeah. I mean, to spend a Saturday morning in bed, with someone incredibly hot, yet cool and charming by their side, sipping coffee and with the promise of cuddles, maybe more” he added playfully, “I think that’s lucky.” He laughed. You couldn't help but laugh, his playful words causing your heart to dance with joy. 

"Oh, I definitely agree," you replied, teasingly raising an eyebrow. "It's not every day you get to wake up to such a perfect combination of hotness, charm, and sweetness."

Mickey grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Ah, so you think I'm perfect, huh?"

"I was talking about me, actually," you said teasingly, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his cheek, “but you’re pretty great as well” 

You watch as customers trickle in and out, some coming in the morning for a quiet cup of coffee and a book, while others come in the late afternoon to study, surrounded by the quiet hum of the shop. The weekends are when families with young children come over, reading together, playing board games, and sipping on hot cocoa, and you watch from afar, sometimes interact, serve coffees and cocoas and cookies and pies. 

It's a peaceful afternoon at Coffee and Chapters when you notice a new customer walk in. You're surprised to see someone in their flight suit - you know the nearby base is home to a fighter pilot training program - but you smile and greet him as he makes his way to the counter. He responds with a shy "hi" and looks around the shop, taking in the books and the cozy atmosphere.

As he wanders through the store, you can't help but notice how handsome he is, with his sandy blonde hair and striking blue eyes. He seems lost in thought, running his fingers over the spines of the books as he searches for something to read, lips moving as he reads each title. You try not to stare, but you can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach.

You watch as he settles in with a book in the corner, and you can't resist taking a peek at what he's chosen. It's a classic novel, and you can't help but smile, feeling a connection to him through your shared love of literature. You go back to your work, but you can't help but steal glances in his direction, captivated by his presence.

-----

As the afternoon wears on, more customers come and go, but Bob remains in his corner, lost in his book. You can't help but wonder what he thinks of the story, and as if he’s heard you, he comes over, book in hand, smiling shyly when he sees you behind the counter.

"Hi," you say, smiling at him. "What can I get for you?"

"Just a coffee, please," he replies, his voice soft and gentle. You nod, and start to prepare his drink. As you work, you can feel his eyes on you, and you turn to him, curious. "So, what do you think of the book you're reading?" you ask, trying to strike up a conversation.

Bob looks up, surprised, but then he smiles. "It's one of my favorites," he says, his eyes lighting up. "I love the characters, and the way the author captures the feeling of being lost and searching for something more."

You nod, intrigued. "I know what you mean. The writing is beautiful, isn't it?"

He nods, and then takes a sip of his coffee, savoring the flavor. "You make a great cup of coffee," he says, smiling at you.

"Thanks," you reply, feeling a warm flush spread through your body. "It's always nice to hear that."

You continue to chat for a few more minutes, talking about the book and other favourite authors. It's a simple conversation, but you can't help but feel drawn to Bob's quiet charm and intelligence. As he finishes his coffee and says goodbye, you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. You hope he'll come back soon, and that you'll have another chance to talk to him.

-----

Days pass, and you can't stop thinking about Bob. You wonder if he'll come back, if he felt the same spark that you did. You try to focus on work, but your mind wanders, imagining what it would be like to spend more time with him.

Finally, he returns, and your heart skips a beat when you see him walk in. You're behind the counter, and he comes up to you, a shy smile on his face.

"Hi again," he says, his eyes shining. "I was hoping you'd be here."

You feel your cheeks grow warm, and you can't help but smile back. "I'm here most days," you say, trying to play it cool.

He nods, and then looks around the shop. "Do you mind if I sit and read for a bit?" he asks, gesturing to the corner where he sat before.

"Of course not," you say, feeling a surge of excitement. "Let me know if you need anything."

As Bob settles in with his book, you try to focus on your work, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. You catch him stealing glances at you too, and every time your eyes meet, you both blush and chuckle.

Finally, he puts down his book and walks up to the counter again. "I'm sorry to keep bothering you," he says, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "But can I order another coffee?"

"Not bothering, and of course," you say, smiling back. "What can I get for you?"

He orders his coffee, and as you make it, you start chatting again. This time, the conversation flows more easily, both of you feeling more comfortable with each other.

You learn that Bob is a WSO stationed nearby, and that he's been in the area for a few years now. He tells you about his love for books and coffee, and how he stumbled upon Coffee and Chapters while looking for a quiet place to read. As you chat, you can't help but feel a growing sense of attraction to him. He's kind, funny, and has a gentle way about him that draws you in. You start to realize that you're falling for him, and it scares you a little.

As the conversation continues, Bob starts to open up more, sharing stories about his experiences as a WSO and his dreams for the future. You find yourself hanging on his every word, captivated by his intelligence and passion.

Eventually, Bob finishes his coffee and pulls out his wallet to pay. As he hands you the money, you take the opportunity to write your number on the back of his receipt. "If you ever want to... well, coffee seems weird, considering my job, but maybe coffee outside of work? Just... feel free to give me a call," you say, blushing at how you babbled nervously, handing him back his receipt with a smile.

Bob's eyes widen slightly as he sees the number on the receipt, and he can't help but smile. "I would love that," he says, his voice soft. "Thank you."

He takes the receipt, tucking it carefully into his wallet, and then looks back up at you. "I should probably get going," he says regretfully. "But I'll definitely be in touch."

As he heads for the door, you watch him go, your heart pounding with anticipation. You can't help but wonder if he'll actually call, or if this will turn out to be just another fleeting crush.

Days pass, and you start to think that maybe Bob won't actually call. But just when you're starting to lose hope, your phone buzzes with a new text message. Your heart leaps as you see that it's from Bob.