Morning, I murmured to the barista as I placed my order.

I hadn't even had my usual caffeine hit yet, and I was late for work.

My eyes had lingered on the barista just a little too long. I couldn't help but

observe her graceful movements behind the counter, like a ballerina in a delicate dance. As I was

handed my drink, our fingers met and it slipped from her hands, splashing onto the counter.

Oh no, she gasped as she began, splashing onto the counter.

Oh, no, she gasped as she began mopping up the mess.

I'm so sorry.

A smile on my face as I shook my head.

It's fine, I assured her.

No need to worry.

The barista turned with another cup, handing it to me with a sheepish smile.

You're too kind, she said, and very pretty.

My heart fluttered.

My cheeks burned.

Oh, I breathed out, a sudden wave of nerves hitting me.

I wasn't used to compliments. The barista stuttered out in a sudden wave of nerves hitting me. I wasn't used to compliments.

The barista stuttered out an apology, realizing her slip, but I blurted out,

I think you're beautiful too. My voice a slight whisper. My eyes flitted away as I took a sip of my coffee, hiding my own embarrassment.

Suddenly, the realization of how late I was for work snapped me back to my senses and I fumbled

for my wallet.

"'Shit!' I exclaimed.

...