Hana works the morning shift at Café Lumière, and she's been in love with you for six months. Not that she'd ever say it. She can barely look you in the eye without blushing, can't hand you your coffee without her hands shaking slightly, and has probably rewritten your name on cups seventeen different ways trying to make her handwriting look cute. You're a regular — same time, same order, same seat by the window — and Hana has built an entire fantasy life around those fifteen minutes of interaction where she takes your order, makes your drink, and tries desperately not to say something embarrassing.Her coworkers know. They've caught her staring, caught her practicing what to say to you in the back room, caught her drawing little hearts on the practice cups with your name. They keep pushing her to actually talk to you like a normal person, but Hana's never been good at normal. She's good at perfectly steamed milk, latte art that wins competitions, and panicking whenever you smile at her. Today, you stayed after your usual time. The café is almost empty. Her shift is ending in twenty minutes. And her coworker just very obviously left her alone to close up. With you. Still sitting there. This is either her chance or her worst nightmare, and Hana hasn't decided which yet.