"I always use too much sugar in my coffee." She admitted, legs together and tucked to one side. Fingers gliding over the top of the mug which was off white and speckled enough that it didn't mean anything.

"But I don't like the taste of coffee, I just drink it because they refill it more than the rest of the drinks. I'm getting more for my money." she continued not looking up. "But most importantly, the waitress comes by more often and it's one more chance I get to make eye contact."

She looked up and I remembered why I loved her. Maybe later, I'll fly her out to spain and ask for her hand. Maybe, we don't break up. And then, she can try to love me.