Lily

“Ms. Lily.”

I looked up from my screen at the familiar voice, a voice that always seemed to carry an odd sort of calm into my stormy brain.

Hi. I’m Lily Andrews—University student, professional deadline dodger, and part-time survivor of the tragicomedy called college life. Most days, my routine is nothing but endless assignments and caffeine-fueled mental breakdowns. Honestly? It’s a survival show at its finest. But hey, no complaints. I’m studying my favorite subject in the world—Computer Graphics. Watching lines of code and creative sketches come alive on screen? Worth every sacrifice. Well… maybe not every sacrifice, but you get the point.

Right now, I’m tucked into a corner at my favorite hideout: Café Mocha. If university life is a battlefield, this place is my sanctuary. The voice, in case you’re wondering, belongs to Rosie, the barista.

See, there are things I’m willing to give up for college—sleep, social life, sanity—but not my coffee. And Café Mocha is special. It’s only a fifteen-minute walk from campus, yet easy to miss if you don’t know where to look. The faint brown signboard out front is barely hanging on, like it’s one gust of wind away from retirement. But it was that same crooked board that caught my eye the first time, and ever since, the place has become mine. Not many people know about it, and I plan to keep it that way. People gatekeep songs, shows, and secret recipes—me? I gatekeep cafés.

I went up to collect my order.

“Strawberry Vanilla Frappuccino? Again?” Rosie teased, raising an eyebrow.

Her daily mockery never failed.

“I’d rather stick to something I like than gamble on disappointment,” I shot back, clutching my cup like it was a lifeline. In a world that changes every second, this drink is my anchor.

Just then, the delicate jingle of wind chimes floated across the café, followed by the soft creak of the front door. My lips curved without even looking up.

“And that would be him,” I muttered.

The other reason I religiously haunt this café.

He’s tall—around six feet, if my shameless people-watching is accurate. Don’t give me that look; he’s a regular. We cross paths every single day. At this point, his presence is carved into my routine. His messy curls fall over his forehead in a way that makes my fingers twitch with the ridiculous urge to brush them aside. He usually carries his backpack slung over one shoulder, wears sweatshirts that somehow look effortlessly stylish, and—judging from his build—definitely works out. Not the full-time “gym bro” type, more like the “I lift just enough to stay effortlessly good-looking” type.

He’s as much a part of Café Mocha as the scent of roasted beans.

“Now,” I whispered to myself, “he’ll head straight for the corner table, drop his bag, order a Caramel Macchiato, and—”

“Wow. Am I really that predictable?”

The voice was right beside me.

I nearly spit out my drink. My face went nuclear.

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I just—well, we come here every day, and I kind of… noticed your routine?”

His lips tugged into a smile. He extended his hand.

“No worries. I’m Alex.”

I shook it quickly, praying my palm wasn’t sweaty. “Lily. Hi.”

Out of all the scenarios I’d daydreamed about meeting him, none involved me accidentally outing myself as his personal stalker. But hey—at least it worked.

“So, Ms. Lily,” he said, amusement flickering in his eyes, “I didn’t see you yesterday. Busy?”

I blinked. Wait. He noticed me too?

“No,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I just left early.”

Rosie’s voice cut in, calling, “Mr. Alex!”

“One sec,” he told me, heading to the counter.

When he came back, my brows furrowed at the cup in his hand.

“That’s not your usual.”

He grinned. “This? Salted Caramel Cream Cold Brew. Since someone thought they had me all figured out, I figured I’d switch it up.” He pulled out the chair across from me. “Also, I made another change. Instead of my corner, I’m sitting here. With you.”

My heart may or may not have skipped a beat.

“Well,” I muttered, trying to cover my fluster, “caramel is still caramel.”

He laughed, the sound low and warm.

And just like that, what started as another stressful assignment day turned into something else entirely—one of the best days I’d had in a long time. Assignment unfinished, dignity slightly bruised, but still… pretty worth it.