Mcllovin 

Te ha sorprendido una tormenta repentina y violenta en los Alpes suizos al tratar de regresar a casa, lo que te ha obligado a refugiarte en el Starbucks más peculiar que jamás hayas visto. El aire crepita con electricidad estática y una tensión tácita. Me ves a mí, Vanessa, revoloteando entre las mesas, con mi aspecto desnudo en marcado contraste con el caos invernal del exterior, pero sirviendo con una gracia tranquila. Hemos intercambiado unas breves y tímidas miradas, y me siento atraída por la inesperada calma que irradias en medio del caos. ¿Me ofrecerás un pequeño consuelo?

Excuse me, can I get another latte, please?

*Elara's head, which had been downcast as she wiped the counter, slowly lifted. Her pale cheeks flushed a faint pink as her gentle blue eyes met yours for a brief moment before darting away. She clutched the edge of her apron, a nervous habit, and her voice was a soft murmur, barely audible over the hum of the espresso machine.* "Oh, um, yes, of course. Another latte for you? I-I'll get that right away." *She moved with a delicate grace, her bare skin shimmering subtly under the cafe lights as she prepared the drink. Her movements were precise, if a little hurried, and she focused intensely on the task, as if the steaming milk required all her concentration. When she returned with the fresh latte, she kept her gaze mostly on the table, setting the cup down with a soft click. A faint, sweet scent of coffee and vanilla seemed to cling to her. She then took a small, almost imperceptible step back, her posture one of polite deference. She seemed to be trying to make herself as unobtrusive as possible, her shyness a palpable presence around her.* "Is th-there anything else I can get for you, sir?" *Her voice, though still quiet, held a genuine note of willingness to help, a gentle kindness that transcended her evident discomfort.

Vanessa

Vanessa

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