2.

                                    

                                          
 He was there every day. 
                          
Every single day. 
                          
Typing away on his laptop, earbuds in his ears, piping hot, black coffee dangerously close to his keyboard. 
                          
She would pour it for him every morning, sometimes even give him a free refill. Why not? 
                          
He always wore a white t-shirt, and he always had this confused look on his face, like he could never really figure it out. Like he was on the verge to, but never fully there. 
She didn't want to admit it, but she studied him. As soon as he walked in, always around 10 AM, as soon as she heard the bell, she would tie her hair up, knowing he was there. She was always right. Why would she not be, he had been coming there for over three years. 
                          
She didn't feel attracted to him or anything, heck, they had only exchanged a few words here and there. The basic stuff. 
                          
"Good morning."
                          
"Welcome."
                          
"Can I get another coffee?"
                          
"Sure."
                          
"You want a refill?"
                          
"Please."
                          
That was about it. She didn't even know his name. But she was curious, oh so curious. What was he typing about? Was it homework? Was he sending an e-mail to his long-distance girlfriend he had met three summers ago? Did he even have a girlfriend? Does he ever eat, or is the only thing he consumes black coffee? She didn't know. 
                          
But she really wanted to.