my mocha love.

his coffee-colored eyes dark and watered down bitter and cold as others throw ice into his cup of life— an iced americano. but as he walks through the door with her jazz playlist on the speakers he wanders up to the counter while she wipes cups clean and turns to greet him— "her sugar-sweet smile." as he immediately stumbles his normally eloquent words crushed like coffee beans he spontaneously changes his regular order to her favorite; a warm mocha. the chocolate freckles across his face blush into a rich rose color as her creamy smooth voice shyly asks, "anything else?" he rapidly shakes his head like the swirling of ice in his iced americano she chuckles "one moment" as she twirls around behind the counter blocking him from her she hums along to the jazzy harmonies her tied up cocoa hair whips around while her sugary smile engrained in his mind is poured into his bitter americano pure sweetness as the ice begins to melt through her warmth we are sitting by the fireplace with cups of hot chocolate watching the soft snow while the— *ding!* "your order. have a nice day— goodbye." he drinks his now cold mocha. he crushes the cup. he throws it in the bin— he orders an iced americano.