Vanilla latte, skim milk, extra hot. She was used to that familiarity. She got the same drink every morning, Monday through Friday, at the same Starbucks she'd been going to for the past half-year at her job.

Same order, same server. The barista saw her, smiled, and started to pump shots of vanilla into her grande-sized order.

"Thanks Em," she chuckled, proceeding down the line towards the cash register.

"Haha, just like every morning. Hi, what can I get for you today?"

"Yeah, um... can I get a...."

It was his voice. She turned around, and saw him, that slightly worn brown leather wallet, the warm smile, the dimple on his left cheek ... she saw him. It seemed so long ago, so long that she stood entranced by his mere presence, not noticing when she automatically picked up her latte... or when the he turned around and walked straight into her through her daze.

"Oh!" She could feel the scalding coffee slowly seep through her jacket, but she didn't care. Clutching onto her half-spilled vanilla latte, she almost didn't dare to look up, knowing it'd be the same piercing gray eyes that had been familiar so long ago.

He paused ever so slightly. "...I'm so sorry."

"Yeah... yeah, me too." She whispered softly.

"do you know what my fear is?"
"one day we'll pass each other on the street and have that... artificial conversation. you know?"

add a thought?
you know..
i really love the way you write.

thanks for always being an encouragement. always.
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