#tim lake

You've met him before, you're sure of it. It's stronger than deja vu; a full fledged memory.

After writing a test you're pretty sure you aced you decided to treat yourself to tea at a new cafe reasonably close to your campus while waiting an hour and a half for your lecture. That's where you are right now, as well.

You remember him tripping over the leg of the table you were sitting at, upsetting it enough for some of your tea to spill. Then he proceeded to apologise profusely and rather awkwardly. You didn't quite mind, you still had plenty of tea leftover, and you told him that. What you carefully didn't mention was that it helped that he was cute.

Maybe you should have, because your assurances hadn't worked; he was still very flustered and ran off into the bathroom. You were just debating following him to make sure he wasn't having a social anxiety induced panic attack or something and then-

Well, then nothing. That's the last you remember of that encounter. And now you're sitting at the same table in the same cafe on the same day for the same reasons except your tea is remarkably unspilled. And he's walking up to your table, carrying his own cup.

He notably doesn't trip this time. Instead, he gives you a hesitant (but gorgeous) smile and stands there, staring at you. You stare right back. The moment stretches.

"Um. Can I join you?" He asks just before the silence turns awkward.

You would usually be a little wary, if not annoyed, to have a complete stranger ask something like that, especially considering the multitude of empty tables left in the cafe. But there's something charmingly earnest about him. And you do find him handsome.

"Sure," you say, hopefully in a casual tone. You follow it up with your best charming smile and watch in satisfaction as he swallows, eyes lingering on your face longer than necessary before he shuffles to sit down across from you.

After he settles, he shoots you a shy smile that immediately melts what little residual hesitation you had about allowing him to share your table. You automatically smile back, genuine and unguarded. You're less worried about the silence getting awkward now, but still, you cast about for a conversation starter.

"So. Do you come here often?" He beats you to it, then immediately winces.

You can't help laughing at him a little bit.

"This place opened about a week ago," you point out teasingly.

"Oh, right," he looks so uncomfortable you decide to take mercy on him.

"How about you? Do you come here often?" you give him a reassuring smile, hoping he won't take the question as further teasing.

He just nods, looking at you with wide puppy dog eyes.

"Then I think I'll come here often as well."

The way his whole face lights up at that is more than worth it. And the tea's good, too.

♡

The conversation had flown so easily between the two of you that day that of course you made good on your promise to become a regular of the cafe. It was on your third visit since (fourth total) that you saw him again.

Tim (he had introduced himself as Tim Lake before you went your separate ways, among much hilarity from the both of you that neither of you thought thought of it earlier) was already at the cafe when you arrived. He was so lost in a book that he didn't even look up when the door opened and closed behind you. Or when you ordered your usual and walked up to his table to already sit with him while waiting for your name to be called to pick up your tea.

Tim startled quite badly when you said hi, sliding into the seat across from him.

"H-hi," he stuttered out. Adorable.

"I'm glad we managed to run into each other again," you said sincerely. Maybe a little too sincerely, even.

"Me too," he admitted. "Have you been here since we've met?"

"Yes, twice." You didn't see the point in lying about it.

"Oh, do you remember the dates and hours?" He asked, strangely nervous. "You know, so I can get a better idea of when you're usually here."

It was a bit of an oddly specific question, sure, but harmless enough and you did happen to remember. So you told him. He repeated the dates and times after you, like he was memorising them. You were just about to tease him about it when you were interrupted by your name being called to pick up your tea.

When you returned, Tim's table was empty. Then you blinked and suddenly you're standing in front of the cafe, your memories of sipping tea alone in slight disappointment nestled parallel to memories of laughter and easy conversation.

The inexplicable change rattles you enough you almost want to turn away and go home, but then you spot him through the window, sitting at the same table with his nose in a different book and your curiosity gets the better of you. Your quickly growing fondness of him might have something to do with it as well.

As you order your usual, the barista gives no indication of having already seen you today. You make a beeline for Tim's table and this time he doesn't startle. In fact, he looks up at you with a sweet smile before you can sit down and puts his book aside. Up close, you can see that it's a copy of "Anna Karenina", which you mentioned to him during one of those two meet ups that may or may not have happened.

Tim greets you smoothly and part of you misses the stuttering you can't be sure was real. But then you two get to talking about Anna Karenina, with only a short break for you to get your tea, and he's so insightful and clever it'd feel absurd to hold a lack of being flustered against him. And when the conversation naturally turns to other topics, the flow of it sweeps you along so completely you forget about the strangeness you only seem to experience around him.

You're disappointed for the meeting to end when you need to leave in order to make it to your lecture in time. And when he asks you for your number, you give it to him excitedly.