I don't like coffee. Even the smell gets to me sometimes. Coffee flavored ice cream? Ruined. Tiramisu? I will only ever be able to admire it from afar.

But I don't come here for the coffee. I come here for the atmosphere. It gives me the perfect place to work. The lights are dim, the temperature is always perfect, and the music is relaxing when I need to relax and easy to tone out when I need quiet.

The best part of the atmosphere though... is her.

I still fondly remember the first time I came into this coffee shop. All I wanted was some tea, but all I could see on the cluttered menu was 1,001 different ways to have coffee. I must have looked lost, judging by the bemused smile on her face.

"I just want tea? Green?" Yes, it did come out as a question.

She just smiled and rang me up, asking for my name. When she called it out a few moments later, I knew I wanted to hear my name on her lips again.

"Blane."

So I come here every evening at the same time. She's always here. She always greets me with a smile. I've never had to tell her what I want or give her my name since that first night. She remembers. Sometimes she'll experiment slightly with my drink.

"You look like you could use some honey tonight," she says with a playful smile. I could indeed. But I don't need to say it. The smile I give her in return says it for me.

Our eyes meet shyly as we both work. Sometimes if business is slow she will bring me a refill. Her fingers linger on mine now when she hands me my tea. It's easy for me to get lost in her eyes when she touches me. On those nights I want to ask her to join me. Some day I'll work up the nerve.

Won't you come have tea with me?