Walking into the bookstore always made you feel like you were at home. Being in between the shelves, listening to the faint sounds of the music and the occasional beep of the scanner, and feeling the thin paper underneath your fingers were some of the greatest comforts in your world. The pages around you muffled everything; it was only the ink, the paper, and you.

            Unfortunately today you had come not to browse the bookshelves but to study for an upcoming test you had in college. You were going for a Bachelor’s Degree in English, hoping one day to move on and become a librarian. Today you had worn what you called your best librarian outfit in an attempt to help you study. Your pink polka-dotted shirt, rectangle frame glasses, best lipstick, and elegant bun made you feel like a five year old playing dress up in your mother’s clothes, yet also somehow allowed you a taste of class and sophistication. Still, it usually inspired you to focus and study like nothing else could.

            The bookstore had an adorable little café attached to it which sold delicious coffee and your favorite scone. The routine every time you came to study was the same: purchase your coffee, munch on your scone, spread your various books, notecards, and highlighters across the corner table, and study long and hard while sipping your coffee. This was your seventh semester and you still had a 4.0 GPA, so you assumed the process was working well enough to continue.

            You came into the bookstore so often even when not studying that all the employees in both the store and the café knew your name. Most of the baristas would see you coming and have your order ready for you by the time you approached the counter. Today however there seemed to be a new person on register. Walking up to the barista, you softly said “Hello.”

            The young man had been so focused on counting the money in his register that he apparently hadn’t even noticed you until you spoke. Startled, he dropped the roll of dimes he had in his hand and bent down to pick it up, but as he stood up again, his head hit the extended drawer and he gasped in pain.

            “Oh my god, are you okay?” you asked, leaning over the counter to see if the man was bleeding. He stayed bent over, cradling the spot where his head had collided with the drawer. The only answer you got from him was a slow moan, the kind people gave when something really hurt and they couldn’t even comprehend how much pain they were in.

            Sighing, you skirted around the edge of the counter and made your way over to where the first-aid kit was located. You approached the young man who was still curled into a ball on the ground and kneeled down so you could treat his head. “Here, let me-” you said, reaching to take off the pink beanie the young man was wearing.

            Evidently he hadn’t seen you walk over to him, because as soon as you began talking he yelped and jumped back, hitting his head on the drawer again. You couldn’t help but giggle at how comical the whole scenario was, despite how bad you felt that he was in such obvious pain, especially considering that the source of said pain was how startled he had been by you. Quickly you peeked over the edge of the counter to ensure that anyone hadn’t approached and closed the drawer so that it couldn’t cause any more damage to the unfortunate barista.

The young man was now on the ground completely, eyes closed and hands clenched from the amount of pain he was in. You opened the first-aid kit and took out what you thought you might need before gently pulling him upright to face you. Soft shushing noises game from your mouth as you supported his weight, hoping to cease the moans coming from his mouth. Although the situation could be serious, you felt like he was overdramatizing things which made everything funny all over again.

            “Hey, listen to me,” you said, pulling one of his hands away from his head and offering a reassuring squeeze to his arm. “I’m going to take your hat off so I can look at your head, okay? It might hurt a bit, but if I don’t look at it, it could get worse.”

A slight movement of his head indicated that he was about to nod, but judging on the short gasp and the strangled “Okay” that came from his mouth, it probably still hurt too much to move. You gently removed his beanie with one hand, keeping the other on his arm to remind him you were there to help. Underneath the hat was a layer of dark brown hair that was fluffy and extremely soft to the touch. You had to remind yourself that you were looking for blood or other signs of damage, not playing with his hair.

Thankfully there only seemed to be a small scrape, but you could tell that the area was already starting to swell. You dabbed a small spot of antibiotic cream on your finger, then reached out to grab his hand. His eyes were still closed but he accepted your hand without questioning. “This is probably going to hurt, so I apologize…”

“Wait, what are you- Ow ow OW!!” he yelled, squeezing your hand. You were grateful that his nails were short, otherwise you felt like you would require the first-aid kit yourself when he was done.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said, dabbing the cream onto the tiny spot on his head that was bleeding. Your attempt at being soft was obviously not working, but you needed to make sure the area was clean. There was no telling what kind of bacteria resided on that drawer, and you didn’t want him getting an infection from something as silly as this.

“There we go.” You removed your finger from the sensitive spot and wiped off the blood and leftover cream onto a napkin that was on the counter. When you turned around, the barista had finally opened his eyes and was looking right at you. For someone who had caused such a ruckus a minute ago, his eyes were deep and soulful, playful yet contemplative, a gorgeous brown that made you catch your breath when your gazes connected at last.

His handsome face vaguely reminded you of a puppy, with his big brown eyes and lips that were currently pouting. Although his nose seemed a little large, it was not disproportionate to the rest of his face. Both of his ears were pierced, as he was wearing small earrings that looked like ninja stars. His brow furrowed and he gave you a questioning look. You realized you were staring at him and quickly snapped yourself out of it.

“Here’s…. um, an ice pack,” you said, breaking the bag of blue gel and handing it to him. “Careful, it’s already swelling. That will relieve some of it but it’s definitely going to leave a mark.”

“Thank you,” the barista said, taking the ice pack. He held it up to the bump on his head, hissing in pain when he first touched the sensitive area. Quickly he relaxed however, the cold sinking into his skin and relieving some of the pain already. “Sorry about all that. I didn’t mean to cause such a scene….”

You giggled, thinking about how it had nearly turned into a comedic routine. “That’s okay! I’m just glad you’re all right. That drawer could have really caused some damage.”

“You’re telling me,” he said. The barista looked puzzled for a second before saying “Hey, wait. How did you know where the first-aid kit was? I didn’t even notice it was here for almost a week.”

“Oooh, yeah, funny story. Leo had to use it on Ken once in a similar incident. I’m surprised Leo didn’t hit him in the head with it, he was so angry at Ken for goofing off and getting hurt the way he did. I made sure to memorize where it was after that in case it was needed.”

Surprise flashed across the young man’s face. “Oh, you know Leo and Ken? The other guys who work here?” he asked.

You let out a small giggle as you said, “Well, I have a class with Ken at the college, but I’m also in here all the time. I know pretty much everyone that works in the bookstore. Except you!”

The barista seemed a little flustered by your statement. “Oh, well, I’m sorry we had to meet in this situation. I’m Ravi.” He extended his hand in greeting. “I just started last week, so it’s no wonder you don’t know me.”

You took his hand, surprised by how firm it was; yet he remained gentle, careful not to crush your fingers. “I’m _____,” you said cheerfully. “Nice to see someone make such a ‘smashing’ impression.”

As soon as you uttered the pun, Ravi’s face turned bright red. Once again you felt bad for causing him pain, but you couldn’t help but laugh at how this entire scenario was turning out. This was something out of The Three Stooges, one painful and awkward stumble after another.

“W-well, s-s-see, um, I-I, uh, uh….” Ravi stuttered, trying to explain away his clumsiness. His sudden inability to speak made him unbelievably cute, and you decided to spare him from any further torture.

You took his hand and pulled him to his feet as you stood up, trying very hard not to laugh. A gentle “Hush” came from your mouth, and the stuttering slowly stopped trickling out. The hand that held the ice pack dropped to his side and he looked at the ground nervously.

“Hey,” you said, using your other hand to gently lift his chin so he was meeting your eyes. Ravi fidgeted nervously before making eye contact with you. His cheeks were still nearly as pink as the beanie he had been wearing, and you almost couldn’t control the “Awww” that escaped your mouth. Somehow he managed to alternate between looking like a lost puppy dog and giving off an air of handsomeness and masculinity that drove you wild.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you go to so much trouble. I’m such a klutz,” his eyes shifted away from yours again, but before he could pull away you swiftly stood on your toes and touched your lips to his.  You weren’t sure why you did it, but it seemed like the right thing to do, standing so close to him….

In Ravi’s surprise, he bumped his nose against yours, making you giggle. Soon though he relaxed, pleasantly lost in this chaste kiss you had given him to show that you really didn’t mind taking care of him. His soft lips pressed against yours and you lost track of time, enveloped in Ravi as his thumb softly traced your cheek.

When you finally pulled away from him, you saw that his face was still pink, but he now was smiling and had a twinkle in his eye. You could tell he wanted to say something but you were afraid he would start stuttering again, so you placed your index finger on his lips. “Hey, if you really feel bad about the trouble you caused me, how about you buy me a coffee? You could come talk to me even. I know you need a break after that bump.”

Nervously, Ravi looked around. “I-I really would love too, but my manager… I don’t know if he-“

“It’s fine Ravi. Take your break before you get another concussion. Just don’t make out in front of my customers,” Leo said, peeking out from the back room. Both of you jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of the silent supervisor, uncertain of just how closely he had been watching the two of you. The look on his face seemed to indicate that he knew exactly what had just happened, but thankfully he seemed willing to let it go.

Ravi nodded as Leo disappeared again to the back room and got to work making drinks for the two of you. The young barista swiftly made you both a caramel macchiato, and as you settled down to get to know Ravi, you couldn’t help but wonder what was a brighter red-the red cross on the first-aid kit, Ravi’s face, or your own.