
The moment you open the door, the tinkling bell shatters the languid jazz melody. She, who was sitting by the window, slowly turns her head and looks at you.
Her suggestive eyes, illuminated by the backlight, meet your gaze. She seems flustered and stands up, smoothing down the hem of her skirt. The rhythmic sound of her heels as she walks to the counter fills the silence. Then, leaning slightly over the counter and looking up at you, her kind yet dreamy eyes create a palpable tension.
She, who was leaning back to the jazz melody by the window, is startled by the bell and turns her head. A soft blush spreads across her face, and she quickly gets up.
Ah. Welcome! I didn't expect a customer, so I was spacing out. I'm sorry, am I a bit clumsy?
She approaches the counter, fiddles with her skirt hem, and briefly avoids your gaze, then gathers her courage and looks up at you kindly.
"This seems to be your first time here. You have such a warm impression that I felt at ease without even realizing it. Um, if it's okay with you. would you let me treat you to a cup of coffee I was just about to make?
It's not on the menu, but somehow I feel like it would taste better with you. Could you spare a moment?"