LOGINELLISSaturday mornings at Sandy's Cafe tended to be pretty predictable. It was busy, loud, a bit annoying sometimes but kinda comfortable, and filled with at least three customers who treated ordering coffee like it was some kind of deeply personal spiritual quest that needed everyone’s undivided attention and patience.The same familiar faces showed up each week, maybe with a philosophy student thrown in who was just there for oat milk and a little validation.Normally, I could handle it. I had my systems in place. My muscle memory kicked in. Plus, I had Sera, who was much quicker at the register and a lot better at pretending to care about what people were saying.But today was different. I was running on about two hours of sleep, wrestling with some pretty strong emotions, and just trying to survive through sheer caffeine-fueled willpower and a splash of spite.That meant I was one minor annoyance away from snapping at someone. Preferably Julian Cross because he was 40% of my prob
ELLISAcross the room, Julian was back at his laptop, sitting in his typical position, but something felt subtly different about the way he held himself. Less rigid. Just a slight difference that most wouldn’t catch, but I, having subconsciously memorized him over the past two weeks, noticed it instantly.I gazed at him without meaning to, my eyes forming a habit I couldn’t shake. His profile in the dim evening light. The way his hand rested near his mouth while he read, fingers touching his jaw as if he was genuinely engaged in thought, not just processing information.The slight furrow between his brows was one of concentration, not irritation, two distinct expressions I’d learned to differentiate without trying.Now that I knew he didn’t hate me, every look he’d ever given me had shifted in my memory, taking on new meanings, which opened up problems I didn’t have the energy to unpack.I dropped my forehead back onto the textbook, holding it there for a moment.This doesn’t change a
ELLISJulian’s gaze lingered on me for another second before he looked away first.Not in annoyance, but not coldly either.He just... turned away quietly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he stared somewhere toward the kitchen instead of at me.And suddenly I knew he wasn’t going to answer.I frowned slightly, irritation bubbling up again at the familiar silence. Seriously, this guy treated conversations like they physically pained him. One second he was pinning me down with those intense blue eyes like I was the only thing in the room, and the next he was acting like he’d signed a legal agreement with himself not to communicate properly.I waited anyway.The silence stretched long enough that even I started getting uncomfortable with it.Eventually I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.Well... at least we were actually having a conversation this time. That alone felt groundbreaking enough. I probably shouldn’t push my luck before Mr. Human Iceberg d
ELLISBut refused to believe that. The hell he doesn’t...I laughed, an involuntary burst of noise that echoed. "Okay, sure.""I don’t.""Julian.""You clearly think I do.""I don’t just think it, I have proof! You made a list! A printed, formatted, laminated list! Rules that state no unnecessary interaction, that’s not a feeling! That’s a document!""That wasn’t—""You looked at me on move-in day like I was something stuck to the bottom of an expensive shoe!"His jaw shifted slightly. "T...that’s not what that was.""And the first time we met...you and your friends were rude to me cause I made a mistake. You stared at me like I was the most boring problem you’d encountered all week after I apologized four times for spilling coffee on you! And you made fun of me for not being able to afford a replacement, like I was some goddamn peasant!""You spilled coffee on a thousand dollar shirt, though.""THAT IS NOT THE POINT!"My voice rang out with enough force to fill the room, and for a mom
ELLISInside my head, every piece of confetti exploded at once.Outwardly, I simply smiled.Awwn, could it be that all my attempts to get his attention were actually getting to him until his breaking point.Julian was just standing there in the middle of the apartment, looking so annoyingly calm that I seriously thought about doing something drastic. Not anything too serious, mind you...nothing that would haunt me at work.Just something to throw him off a bit and balance things out for the week. Something like tossing his protein shakes into the ocean one by one as he watched.Or maybe while he was sleeping, I could shave off one of his eyebrows and just pretend everything was normal when he woke up. Or I could burn his precious list of rules and roast marshmallows over the ashes while keeping a straight face.These all felt like fair responses to the emotional torture I’d been enduring for days. I mean, any jury would get it.The sticky note was still pinched between Julian’s finger
ELLISRealizing that filled me with a kind of reckless confidence. Once I understood that he was secretly enduring all of this with the same enthusiasm as I was, just with better control, I became completely, shamelessly unbearable.After my shower, I strolled back into the room shirtless, towel wrapped around my waist, casually drying my hair like I had nowhere pressing to be and zero worries about the impression I was making.This wasn’t about impressing anyone.This was psychological warfare.Specifically, psychological warfare conducted under rules of engagement I had set unilaterally and hadn’t shared with the other party.There was a significant difference.I moved toward my side of the room, stretching casually. The towel hung lower around my waist than it strictly needed to, you could argue that it was on purpose...but you had no proof.Therefore it was completely coincidental.From the corner of my eye, I saw Julian’s fingers freeze against his keyboard for half a second befo




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