Novel & Cerita Cafe Whispers

Cassie POV As I walked through the front door of The Bean House, the tiny bell attached to the door rang out. I was immediately hit by the smell of fresh coffee and newly baked pastries. The café was decorated with varying hues of brown, white, and yellow. The seats in the middle parts of the café were arranged in groups of twos and threes around circular tables. The seats closer to the walls and corners of the café were arranged in booths with the chairs having bright yellow cushioning. Various handing and potted plants littered the café giving it the feeling of a cutesy cottage. The floorboards shone as they had probably been freshly mopped and polished. A chalkboard situated directly oppo

Cassie sat at the small corner table in the neutral café, hands wrapped tightly around a lukewarm cup of tea she had no intention of drinking. The place was quiet. It was mid afternoon, with only a few scattered patrons typing on laptops or reading newspapers. Soft jazz played in the background, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside her chest. Her heart hammered so hard she could feel it in her throat. Every few seconds, her eyes darted toward the door, waiting for him.

As she wandered aimlessly on the street, she unconsciously walked to the cafe mentioned in the text message. It was the coffee shop "Qiaowei Cafe". It was a strange name, but when one saw the location of this cafe, one could understand why it was called. This cafe was right below a stone arch bridge. There was a shade shed at the entrance of the shop. It was not much different from other cafes. There was something special about it - there were a lot of echeveria in this shop. Jessica walked in, the wind chimes hanging at the door rang. Since it was not weekend, there were not many people in the store.

I flashed a wry smile “Indulge me your majesty.” Eric paused leveling his gaze, “Don't call me that.” “Why might that be? You are king.” “It’s strange hearing it from your mouth.” He muttered. I pondered the thought. I wasn't drunk. Just relaxed enough to not really comprehend what my surroundings were. Eric whispered to the waitress who nodded before hurrying off. She came back with a slice of pie. Not any pie, apple pie. I had to stop myself from drooling. Grabbing my fork I took a bite. Not caring if it was Eric's slice or mine. I groaned as the flavours bathed my tongue, closing my eyes in delight.

Her father had a small convenience store in the town, paying the rent and then sending her money to cover mom's medical bills was tough on him. Innessa told the girls that she needed to apply at the cafe for a part-time job. The girls waited for her inside the cafe while Innessa talked to the owner. He was a man in his mid-30s, with blond hair and blue eyes; he was pretty handsome and friendly. Jasper was concerned about whether she could give time properly, knowing she was a student, but Innessa assured him, and he told her to be at the cafe starting Monday. She agreed happily as they exchanged phone numbers. The girls were happy for her, and Darla treated them to dinner at a cozy restauran

“Figured you might need caffeine after surviving your first week here.” I blinked, heat already creeping up my neck. “You brought me coffee again?” “Hero privileges,” she replied easily, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. She set one cup on the counter and opened the pastry box, revealing two golden croissants. “And breakfast. You’re welcome.” I took the coffee like it was a lifeline. “You really didn’t have to.” “I know.” She leaned against the counter, eyes flicking over me in a slow, deliberate sweep that made my skin prickle. “But I wanted to. Plus, I figured if I waited any longer you might try fixing something else and take out the whole building this time.”

Kurt said and Annika just agreed, they all pile into Kurt's car, and he drives them to his house and back to his office. Kurt was back in the office and had tons of paperwork to do and documents to review about the current project he was working on. He called Jasper and told him that he needed a refreshment. Jasper went out and got him Iced Caramel Macchiato. It's a vanilla-flavored espresso drink with cold milk, ice, and a drizzle of caramel. ‘You should be needing one of these Sir Kurt. It seems that you’re struggling a lot lately with the project.” Jasper concernedly said as he handed him the refreshment.

She wonders where they were going? "Butter Studio." She read the sign written in the cafe. "Welcome to Butter studio," says the woman wearing a pastry chef hat. They sat on the block beside the glass window ornamented with a mini flower on the pot. They ordered a frosted cake minimally between layers and dressed in foliage and fruits, a Milo and Speculoos, Salted caramel and red velvet, an ice cream, and two chocolate cupcakes with almond and chocolate chips on top. "This is a new year treat. Congratulations on being the 100th customer. Enjoy your meal," says the woman who had served their order. The cafe gave them a hazelnut frappe as a new year threat.

"I think there is a café nearby." We walked along Whetstone High Road, a found café with a smudged blackboard menu and enough grease in the air to keep Blanche's hair in place for a year. It's a café from a bygone age, with red-and-white plastic gingham table clothes on top of wobbly tables, paper napkins and a waitress with tattoos everywhere and more piercings than I care to mention. Blanche ordered tea and toast, and I chose the all-day breakfast, and after we had finished, neither of us said anything.

He didn’t care about anything except the memories pressing against his chest. The café was called Moments. It wasn’t flashy. From the outside, it looked quiet and understated. But the sign by the entrance had caught Sebastian’s eye, and that was why he’d chosen this place. A handwritten board stood by the door. A single white page was clipped to it, words written neatly across the surface: Are you stuck, wanting to let go but unable to? Lost in the fog, unable to move forward? Try our “Memory” blend. It may remind you that once, someone loved you—