Coffee And A Book

Theirs was a blissful love story at the beginning. They had met each other at a coffee shop. The waiter had mixed up their coffee orders and given him coffee with milk and sugar. He always ordered pure black coffee. She was sitted behind him when she had been served his own coffee and while she tried to reach out to the waiter to correct the mistake, he had reached out too.

“I think I might have your order with me.” He turned to her and smiled with crinkling eyes. She glanced at the coffee in her hand and gave a slight smile before stretching it out to him. He stood up and sat in front of her before swapping his coffee with hers. “I think the waiter might have been absent minded while serving.”

“Yes.” She said with a soft voice. He sipped from his steaming coffee while staring at her. He knew it was rude to stare but her sad brown eyes had caught his attention. Her eyes looked like the kind that communicated every emotion she was feeling.

“You know it is actually rude to stare.” She said while warming her hands with the coffee in her hand.

“I know it is but I just can't help it. And I’m not trying to be a flirt. I see you here almost everytime I stop by to take an order. But today's the first time I could actually talk to you.”

“Well, I love the coffee here and this cafe happens to be one of my few favorite places in the whole wide world.”

“Me too.” The silence yawned between them and he started drumming his fingers on the table. She brought out a novel and started flipping the pages.

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“I know this book. Actually I have read it a couple of times. Eleanor and Park. Rainbow Rowell did wonders with it.”

“Really? This happens to be the third time I'm reading it. What's your favorite part of it?” He watched as her sad brown eyes lit up with happiness.

“The part where they held hands for the first time. Rainbow described it with such vivid detail. It felt like I was actually holding Eleanor.”

“Me too. I think that's the best part of the book. I loved it and I kept reading that part over and over again. I even annotated it.” She flipped to the page and showed it to him. While he took the book from her, their fingers brushed and they left it lingering. He took her hands in his and intertwined their fingers. Her hands were so warm, probably from the coffee she had held. They were soft and smooth and fragile. He held her hands tenderly.

“I have often deluded myself with that part, you know? Holding hands with someone and feeling so much.” She said softly with her eyes downcast. Then she raised them up and they were shiny. “I can't believe I did it with a stranger, over a cup of coffee. I have a lot to share with my diary.”

He smiled at her before saying, “My name's Christian. If you introduce yourself now, we might stop being strangers.”

“I'm Blue.”

“Blue??” He leaned back in wonder. His hand not leaving hers.

“Yes, Blue. And this just makes us strangers on a first name basis.”

“Who knows? A little chat would make us acquaintances. Why is your name Blue?”

“Well, it is my mum’s favorite color. And she says when she gave birth to me, I gave her comfort. So, she named me Blue.”

“Blue.” The name rolled off his tongue smoothly. He pronounced it with so much grace. It was as if he held the name in reverence. “So, Blue. Why is this cafe one of your few favorite places in the world?”

“It's obvious,” She threw her hands in the air with delight and he found himself missing the warmth and comfort of her hands. “The scent of freshly made coffee, coffee beans, seeing strangers subconsciously bond while drinking coffee. The peace that comes from sipping coffee while holding a book in your hands. Here, there is amiable silence while the hustle and bustle of the world goes on outside. It's just wonderful.” She finished, her eyes filled with wonder.

“You make me want to say it's my favorite place too,” He chuckled.

“What's yours?” She asked in return, before holding his hands once again.

“Mine is my bedroom. I wouldn't lie. I know it sounds cliche.”

“It actually is but I want to hear why.”

“Well, my bed’s warm. It's comforting. It's soft. It knows almost all my secrets and fears. Every night, I lay bare my thoughts and have discussions with myself in my bedroom. In my bedroom, all the outside noise is blocked. There's just me and my things I hold in familiarity.”

“Now, I see why.” She was about to say something else when his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then at her.

“I'm afraid my time’s up. Work calls.” He sighed, sad to cut short the connection he shared with this lovely stranger. This connection he had made over coffee and a book. “Will I get to see you here tomorrow? I want to talk to you again.”

“Yes, you will.” She replied, she gave him that slight smile again. The call came in again. He stood up from his seat. “I'm afraid I have to go now. I had a wonderful time with you, Blue. I think this moment stands as the best part of my day and I hope to share more moments like this with you. We have more to talk about on Eleanor and Park. Do have a wonderful day.”

“And you too, Christian.”

Then he took his leave, glancing back and smiling at her. She smiled back. The door opened and closed and she was alone again with her book and cup of already cold coffee. She stood up too, placing her book back in her bag. The promise of what tomorrow held filled her with hope and her brown eyes were no longer sad.