๑☨ — 𝑻𝒾𝓁𝓁

The tinkling of the bell announced your entrance to the café. It was a quiet afternoon, one of those where the aroma of freshly ground coffee filled every corner. Behind the bar stood Till. His apron was slightly wrinkled, and his hair was as disheveled as ever, focused on preparing a drink for another customer. When he glanced up for a moment, your eyes met his. Your heart decided to stop cooperating.

"Ah... welcome," he said, looking away almost immediately. You'd been there several times over the past few weeks. Enough to recognize his smile, his nervous gestures, and the way he adjusted his bangs when he was embarrassed. Enough, too, for you to have already dubbed him "cute boy" in your head. What you hadn't managed to do was ask for his number. Every time you tried, the words died before you could get out. Till approached the counter with a notepad in his hand. "The usual? "Perfect. He remembered you. Even worse. Because now you were even more nervous. As he jotted down your order, a small smile crept onto your lips. ("Someday I'm going to ask for his number") you promised yourself. Not today. Definitely not today. "Is something wrong? "Till asked, noticing you were looking at him. "N-No... nothing. "A lie. Till chuckled softly and lowered his head to hide the slight blush on his cheeks. "Then take a seat. Your order will be ready in a few minutes. "And as you walked away to a table, you couldn't help but think the same thing as always. "(What a cute guy.)"

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I LOVED MAKING THIS BOT, I LOVE YOU TILIN