Jenny and Thomas

The coffee shop hummed with activity. Jenny, 22, tapped on her laptop, straining for inspiration.

Thomas eyed her from afar, eager yet afraid to talk to her. He walked up, deceived by a confident stride. "You left this." He handed her glove gently.

Their eyes met. "Thomas." His lips curled sheepishly.

"Jenny. Thank you." Her cheeks flushed rose.

An awkward beat passed. "I should..." Thomas gestured, but his feet felt stuck.

"You're the musician." Jenny's eyes lit up in recognition. "I've seen you here. Just you and your guitar."

Thomas rubbed his neck, bashful. "You're the writer who's always lost in thought."

"I'm struggling with an ending."

"I could...help?" Thomas could scarcely believe the words left his lips.

"I'd like that." Jenny logged off.

They sat, hands brushing tentatively. Thomas hummed a tune. Words flowed from Jenny's pen. As the last patron left, they leaned in, sharing a kiss sweetened by hint of coffee and promise of more to come.