Good afternoon.

He blinks at his cup. Is it actually wishing him a good afternoon? Staring at the scrawled permanent maker across the side of the cardboard, he tilts his head to read it again. After he's made sure to commit the scrawl to memory, he glances towards the counter... only to be met with the smiling face of a young girl. She hadn't served his drink. His features fall and he looks away.

That must be a good book.

His smile quirks, and he glances down at the book he's been studying with. It's his final semester at university and he has so many exams to study for that he even sleeps with the damned books. Perhaps it's a good thing he's single... he would have to have to share his free time with another human being. The message makes him smile again, and he runs his fingers over the marker before returning to his book.

You look nice today.

Cheeks flushing, he turns the cup away from where others can see it, and drops his head into his book a little more. What was this? Flirt with the English major day? He chokes when he hears a soft voice call out to him, asking if he wants another muffin. He looks up at the girl – it can't be her, can it? - and shakes his head before pointing to the half-eaten orange and poppyseed muffin sitting next to his coffee. She shrugs and goes back to serving the next person. All the while he wonders. Who's sending him these little messages? Does he really not pay that much attention?

You have a cute smile.

Truthfully, the barista he sees before class has a nice smile. He doesn't even know the guy's name, mostly because he's too shy to actually go up to him and introduce himself. He's not a voyeur, or a peeper, but he enjoys the way the red head's smile lights up when he serves a customer, or when a little girl talks to him, or even when he's clumsy and knocks over a bottle of milk. It's amusing, but every little quirk makes him want to know the red haired boy even more. He never approaches him.

At first he doesn't see the message on his cup. He's preoccupied with finding a seat, and then the cardboard sleeve won't come off. When he finally slides it away, the words catch him off guard and then he's in a sharp breath.

Will you go out with me?

He looks up sharply, in time to see dark eyes meeting his, a bright smile tugging at beautiful lips before a lock of red hair falls into his face. Jackson lurches out of his seat, all breathless voice and flushed cheeks as he stops in the middle of the coffee shop.

“Hi. I'm Jackson Wang. You're pretty. Yes, I'll go out with you!”

It takes him a long time to realize he's just shouted every word, and soon enough there are people giggling. The barista is stunned, smile faltering and cheeks pink, before he's stepping past the counter and closing the gap between them. Jackson's breath falters, and he can only smile as the barista stops just before him, and then there's a hand on his jaw and another around his waist.

“Mark. My name's Mark,” the barista hums against his mouth, and then he kisses him... and all Jackson can taste is caramel and coffee.