There wasn't much in the way of an expression in that rare combination of beautiful, perfect features. There was only the ever-present message that he only tolerated what he did, and for whom. It was unfortunate. I resigned myself to the knowledge that, while I might never know the barista beyond what my mind conceived, I was still privy to the sometimes breathtaking sight of him, and I suspected I was far from alone in my adoration.
He worked efficiently. For each person who came in and ordered 'the usual', he responded accurately and without unnecessary dialogue. Every now and again he would look up and make eye contact, and in those brief moments time stood still.
His eyes were the most magnificent shade of translucent green that anyone had ever seen, I was sure. They seemed to be able to peer into the deepest recess of your soul, where they could divine your darkest secrets. Ironically, they didn't reve