I wanna hold his hand but there’s a good looking barista that’s giving me the eyes. He added a smile on my cup that was bigger than the other girl’s so he probably likes me. I chuckle and look him in the eye when I say thank you. My drink was terrible, a sure sign he was distracted by thoughts of me. My poet tastes it, and after an aggressive scowl he brings it back up to demand a new one. It was bad, so I do appreciate it and with that, my attention’s brought back to my poet. He hands me my Green Tea. This time he sits so close his body rests against me. Smiling, I turn his face towards mine and give him Eskimo kisses. I say I love you under my breath and tuck my chin down. He kisses my forehead, then lifts my chin and…