"I'm really tired. I just want to go home and rest," she thought to herself, the fatigue evident in her eyes.
As she turned to wipe down the counter, the familiar sound of the café door opening caught her attention.
Squeeeek.
A tall young man with ocean-blue eyes entered the café, instantly capturing Nima's gaze. She had never seen anyone quite like him-his presence was almost otherworldly, and his gorgeous looks only added to the intrigue.
"What would you like to order?" she asked, trying to maintain her composure.
"An iced Americano," he replied, his voice deep and smooth.
Nima nodded and busied herself preparing the drink, her mind racing with thoughts. Who was this man? Why did he make her feel so flustered? She returned a moment later, the iced Americano in her hand.
"Here's your iced Americano, sir," she said, handing it to him.
In that brief moment, her hand accidentally brushed against his. The contact sent a jolt through her-his hand was large and veiny, making hers seem small in comparison. She felt an inexplicable warmth from the touch.
"Thank you," he said with a smile, and then he turned and left the café.
Nima stood there, watching him go, mesmerized by his smile. It was the kind of smile that could light up a room, like the warmth of the sun on a cold winter's day-beautiful and comforting. His voice lingered in her mind, smooth and soft, as if he were whispering directly into her ears.
"Is it okay for me to find a stranger's smile so comforting?" she wondered to herself.
The rest of her shift passed in a blur, her thoughts constantly drifting back to the mysterious man. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she closed up the café and headed home. She kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto her bed with a sigh of exhaustion and relief, falling asleep without bothering to change her clothes.
That night, Nima dreamed of the same man. In her dream, he smiled at her, holding her hand and calling her name, "Nima." The dream felt incredibly real, and she woke up in a daze, her heart pounding with a strange new sensation.
"What was that, and why did I see him in my dreams? Why did it feel so real?" she wondered aloud.
She checked her phone and saw that it was already time to get ready for another day at the café. With a reluctant groan, she got up and quickly prepared herself, constantly glancing at the clock.
"It's already time. Why does it feel like I didn't get enough sleep? It's almost time to open the café. I only have 45 minutes. Will I make it on time?" she muttered to herself, letting out a long sigh.
Back at the café, Nima slipped into her routine, greeting customers and serving drinks. But her mind kept drifting back to the man from the previous day.
"Thank you for coming. Have a great day," Nima said to a departing customer, trying to stay focused.
Squeeeek...
The door opened again, and Nima's heart skipped a beat. She looked up, half expecting to see the mysterious man.
"What would you like to order?" she asked the customer, her voice tinged with a hint of hope.
"An iced Americano," said the customer.