She was sitting there, headphones in, multiple people pulled up in small boxes on her laptop screen. Obviously, she was on a call and judging by her regular head nods and longing looks at her empty coffee cup it was a call that should have ended forever ago. It was her fourth day working quietly, tucked into a corner table. Always as close as possible to where the café ended, and the books began. Her long hair either twisted up into a bun or woven into a thick multicolored braid that ran over her shoulder, resting between her breasts.
Coffee Shop Fling
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