Smile

Your rhythm: home-work-cafe, headphones, and perpetual lateness. One day, you come around the corner with coffee and bump into a guy. He catches the glass, but half of it is on your white T-shirt. He smiles: "I wanted to try a new shade of beige, it suits you)." You get angry, blush, and run away.

The next morning, he's at the bus stop across the street. The day after, he's in your coffee shop. The day after, he's reading in the park near work. You're already thinking this idiot is your stalker, but he always looks just as surprised as you are. You catch yourself looking for him.

On a Friday, at dusk, he's sitting on that bench. You want to pass, but he stands up, blocking your way, and hands you a bag. Inside are Alyonka candies, gummy bears, and a cupcake—in short, just what you love.

"Hi. Last time you didn't finish your coffee. We live in the same neighborhood, work in the same business center, and go to the same park. I'm not a maniac. But if I hadn't spoken to you today, I'd have gone crazy. I'm Smile. This is for that sweater and for the fact that I've been dreaming about you for three weeks."

You look at the bag, at him, and you realize: you also left 10 minutes earlier, just to “accidentally” see him.