°•Mumbo's POV•°

Here he was again.

After coming from last week, and the week before, and the week before that one, he was back again. He came in to order his usual, standard drink, the same exact order he gets every week. Every week for months.

His usual is cold midnight mocha with a shot of caffeine mixed inside, topped with a swirl of fluffy whip cream. The days that I am greatly happy, I would add in a drizzle of caramel and sprinkle some crushed chocolate chips on top as a bonus.

His beautiful purple wings, groomed without a feather out of place, were breathtaking to say the least. About one in every five humans have beautiful angel-like wings because of a nuclear winter storm that passed by years ago. His were just extremely pretty. I almost reached out to stroke it when his back was turned one time, but I thankfully stopped myself. They just look incredibly soft.

I set his order down in between us as soon as I finished it. Every time I did that, he would cast a beaming smile on his lips, just like the one right now.

That damn smile gets me every time.

His brilliant, vivid baby blue eyes twinkle with so much life whenever he looks up at my own. He has a short figure, so every time he tilts his head up to look at me, all the little freckles that are littered on his face gets revealed.

"Have a nice day, sir," I formally said with a soft smile of my own, handing out his debit card over the counter and mocha. He takes it lightly from my hold before stuffing it away into his wallet. His fingers wrap around the clear, plastic cup that contains his ordered drink before pulling it close to his chest.

"You too, Mumbo!" He exclaims gleefully in his adorable voice that is laced with a strong accent.

Oh, right, I have a name tag. I was so caught up on his voice because it sounds like music to my eardrums.

His smile is always bright with utterly no signs of faltering. He waves to me with his free hand, keeping the same exact cheerful smile carved upon his face. The little yellow bell over the door chimes quietly when he opened the door to leave. He went outside to the city, the glass door closing behind him with a soft click.

I sigh deeply, peeling my hat off of my head. I can tell that my raven hair looked a little mattered based on my reflection on one of the newer, cleaner coffee machines.

My hand sets my hat down on the counter surface and I duck down to grab something behind the counter. When I lifted myself back up, I set down a sign between the cash register and my worker cap.

15-minute break.

I take a small glance around the café. Luckily, it wasn't bustling with activity today. Tuesdays were normally calmer rather than the weekends.

Don't get me started on Mondays, though. Not sure what is up with people desperately wanting coffee on Monday mornings, but I guess it just happens.

I head to the backroom that is behind the display, which shows off the treats we bake and sell here at HermitCafe. I still never understand why the café is named like that. The door flops behind me when I enter through.

Before I know it, an arm gets wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me down because of the sudden weight.

"Did you ask him for his phone number yet!? What's his name!?"

I blink my eyelids for a short bit, drawing up a nervous smile to my lips. My eyes shift to Iskall, his eye sparkling with bright high expectations, his left eye patched up from an injury at an early age. Despite his one good eye, nothing would compare to his blue ones.

Full of life, dazzling like a sea of diamonds. That red sweater, sandy-colored haired guy that would come in every single Tuesday and Saturday.

His eyes complement well with his fluffy hair. His curly strands of hair look incredibly cute, bouncing around on top of his head every time he would perk up when his order is called.

"N-No... No name or phone number..." I sigh again as my shoulders begin to slump. I'm just losing hope at this point, aren't I?

"Yet." Iskall tsked at me while wagging his finger dangerously close to my face.

"What?" I question, pulling his arm away from my shoulder blades so I can be free. He takes a step back, being dramatic about the way he moves his body.

"No phone number or name yet," he says back with a tone of sass. I roll my eyes and decide to head to the pastel bean bags that are lounging around today.

My phone was laying in one of them since we are not allowed to have phones on the job. Obviously. "Seriously, you have to get it soon, or either wise he might think you are not interested in him!" Iskall shoots his hand up, still being dramatic.

I pluck my phone off of the bean bag before plunging down, relaxing a little bit at the instant hug of the seat. Iskall wanders around the room with a curled finger and thumb overlapping his lips.

"I know, but, come on- He is perfect, Iskall! You've seen him out there before! And don't get me started on his wings. They-"

"They are magnificent. Yes yes, I know. You have told me multiple times," Iskall huffs out, kicking his leg a little bit. He draws his hands to his hips and purses his lips out a little bit. "He does seem like the perfect type. After that little experiment, I was sure that he was the perfect one for you, Mumbo."

Ah yes, the 'little' experiment we did.

It was stupid, honestly. Seeing Iskall dressed up as an old woman was ridiculous. But that red sweater male was so generous.

Iskall called off of work today. And I know why. He called Xisuma, the manager of the café, and told him that he was very sick and that he threw up.

It was Saturday today, which meant more business. Nasty men and women would snarl at me and some of the other employees on the weekends. They would be rude on some occasions and they would complain that they have errands to do.

Iskall came in, dressed with a grey, curly afro like wig and what looked like a Dorthy dress from the Wizard of Oz. He even dyed his entire beard the light shade of grey to match with his fake hair. He had a cane shaking in his quivering grasp and sunglasses affixed on the bridge of his nose. At a quick glance, he looked like a normal old lady, but then when you see the front, he looked... weird to put it simply.

He pushed past the people and chatter filled environment to get in line. Shortly afterward, the young-looking male came in with his usual wear. Red sweater, grey sweatpants, and sprouting purple wings. He was waiting behind the dressed Iskall, being really patient. He didn't look down at his phone to check the time at any moment, considering that would be rude because it would signal that Iskall moves slowly. In which he was moving like a snail in molasses.

As Iskall crawled forward, wooden cane still in his hand, the guy, my huge crush, behind him was smiling brightly the entire time. He bobbed his head around to entertain himself in the meantime, his curly hair lightly springing around. When Iskall came up to the counter, he spoke in a hideously, quiet but shrilled, fake old lady voice straight at me.

"I-I can't read the menu..." Iskall had said, squinting his working eye behind the sunglasses. The dirty blonde behind Iskall seemed to have heard after being caught up in his own thoughts.

"Excuse me ma'am, but would you like me to list off some of the items for you?" The guy asks in his British voice, sending a small beam at Iskall.

He didn't seem to flinch when realizing the old lady in front of him had a beard. I almost wanted to laugh after he blinked his sparkling eyes in a small surprise. This world is pretty weird, so it probably wasn't the weirdest thing he has seen in his life.

"Ah yes, Sunny, I would like that. List off some of the treats they have here for me, please," Iskall continues in that ear-piercing voice.

He turns his body around and reaches his hands out. His hand lands right on the guy's face as he chuckles, blushing a little bit at the embarrassing encounterment. He grabs Iskall's wrists gingerly to pull them down.

I wanted to giggle at Iskall and the guy but I only smiled to hold back the urge to laugh at this strange event.

The shorter guy was listing off the treats slowly for the Swedish male. Iskall would obnoxiously ask what the guy said, so he would have to repeat himself again.

"What lovely wings you have!" Iskall shrieks, gasping a little bit at the end. The guy didn't seem to be bothered by the interruption, but rather smiled and said a small 'Thanks'.

"Do you know what you are ordering yet, ma'am?" I ask while leaning my elbow on the cash register a little bit. Iskall squints his eye again and looking up at the menu, which he knows by heart, considering that he works here.

"I will have a caramel chocolate muffin, please," Iskall orders and then looks at the red sweater guy again. I head to the glass shelves that hold the sweets and pull out those cheap, thin plastic gloves. I put them on and reach in to grab the muffin, listening to them.

"That is a really good choice. Those are so good," the guy says, his voice wavering. "I ought to get one myself now." He chuckles, Iskall chuckling in a high pitched tone beside him.

I pull the muffin up and wrap it in a small, brown plastic bag. I set it down on the counter and press my fingers on the register. The total amount pops up.

"Your total is 1.59. What is your payment?" I ask, doing my regular routine now by clicking the buttons. Iskall hums, a concerned expression on his face.

He puts his hands inside of his blue stitched on Dorothy pocket. His hand shuffled around inside before he pulls out a bunch of clattering coins in his palm.

"Let's see here... hmm.." Iskall sets the coins down on the counter next to his wrapped muffin. I noticed the big portion of bronze compared to silver. Lots of pennies. Oh my word, Iskall. This is a little extreme for a small experiment with the guy I have been crushing on!

"One..." Iskall moves a shaky finger and points at one of the pennies. He then slightly moves his finger to another penny right next to it. "Two..."

It went on like that for a few solid minutes. I sort of felt my right eyelid beginning twitch in pure annoyance. My head was just screaming to just throw the muffin at his fake wig and tell him to take it.

"And 1.30. Oh shoot, I don't have enough..." Iskall whines and moves his hands to collect his coins back into his palm.

Typical. Real typical, Iskall. Cliché and annoying.

"I hope it isn't too much trouble if I pay then?" The male asks, holding his wallet open in his hand.

"Oh deary, you do not have to."

"I insist!" A large smile etched across his lips. He looks at me, making my heart flutter a little bit. "May I please have a caramel muffin and my usual drink, please?" He asks fluently without showing a sign of stuttering.

He seemed like he was enjoying his life right now, and I wouldn't want to ruin his mood at this second.

I grab the muffin and ordered False to make the drink. I specifically told False to make the 'usual', which is a code word that she gets. She makes it like how I would, adding in all the little details.

She sets the drink down in front of us before going off to help a customer out with cleaning up a mess that was accidentally made.

I add in the rest of the order to the receipt and bring up the total cost.

"Your cost is 6.79," I told the man. He hands me his red debit card, which basically reflects his red sweater. I grab it from him, mistakenly skimming my fingers over his. It was like a small little spark flew from my heart.

I promptly scanned the card, printed the receipt, and thrust all of the items at Iskall and the man with a mad blush.

All because I unwittingly touched his hand.

The male grabs the items, his lips still curled in an innocent grin. He gives Iskall his muffin and waves to both of us while heading out.

"Have a nice day, you two!" He yells out. He leaves out of the glass door, the occasional chime of the bell ringing above his head as he exited. His figure went past the large front café windows. After confirming he was gone, I grab Iskall's Dorthy dress from across the counter.

"Did you catch his name, Iskall!?" I hastily whispered, leaning over the counter so he can hear me. Iskall laughs and waves his handoff.

"No, but he is REALLY nice!"

As if I didn't know that already. He has been incredibly nice. If only I knew his goddamn name though!

Iskall takes a small pause in his pacing before he runs into something, like a potted plant or wooden table.

"Listen, Iskall. It's no big deal. I will ask him what his name is when he comes in on Saturda-"

"You said that last time! And the time before!" Iskall growls like a canine would, becoming more agitated at my words. The same sentence has been repeating for weeks. I can understand why he is upset. I am such a coward.

"Okay, fine. I owe you twenty dollars if I don't get his name, alright?" I said, turning on my phone and looking down.

---

"Hello, Mumbo!" He says upon entering through the door, his feet stepping onto the little rug that always greets customers.

I noticed something was off about him before quickly realizing the extra accessories he is wearing. A red flower crown hugs around his head like a nest and a necklace with rainbow-colored feathers is over top his sweater.

"I didn't know you were a hippie," I said with a gentle smile, walking a few steps to grab the cup and crushed coffee grounds. I heard the male giggle behind me as he approached the counter.

"I joined a hippie commune just recently. But enough about me, how is your day?"

I set the cup under the mixing machine and watch as it pours into the cup.

"Nothing new, I guess." I shrug, grabbing a clear lid and getting the extra stuff out onto the back counter.

"Ask for his name! Ask for his name, Mumbo!" I can hear Iskall's voice ringing in my head. I look over my shoulder, quickly meeting with his bright blue eyes. My cheeks turn hot and fuzzy as I quickly turn my head back to the machine.

"H-Hey, you don't mind me asking you something, right?" I ask, observing as the mocha gets filled to the brim of the cup. I turn the machine off and head over to the blender to start mixing the ingredients better.

Luckily it wasn't incredibly loud like people would expect. I turn it on a lower setting and placed his order underneath.

"I don't mind. What's up?" He pulls his wallet out then presses his elbow next to the cash register to lean forward a little bit. I gulp some saliva down my throat, trying to silently breathe calmly.

"You don't mind me a-asking, erm-" my thumbs twiddle with one another as heat spreads across my face. "What is your name...?"

"Oh, I thought you would never ask!" He giggles again, his shoulders bouncing as he did so. "My name is Grian. And I presume yours is Mumbo? That is what your name tag says."

Gree-anne. Grian. Grian. This will never slip from my mind, I hope.

I resist the urge to suddenly look down at my name tag after he pointed at my work clothes.

I feel like a moron lever just got switched inside of my head as a goofy, stupid smile spread onto my cheeks, almost smiling ear to ear with joy. I turn off the blender before adding in the last of the ingredients.

"Yeah, my name is Mumbo," I ignorantly laugh and pop the plastic lid on after swirling the whipped cream, drizzle caramel rivulets, and topped small chocolate chips. I bring it over to the counter and set it down in front of Grian.

The pads of my fingers tap on the register before the amount comes popping up. "And you know what the total is," I add in cheekily, grinning stupidly the whole time.

"Yep. Here ya go," he holds his debit card in between two of his fingers. I take it and swipe before setting it next to his drink. I notice he pulls something light brown out of his pocket and places it down beside his drink. He puts his debit card away and then grabs his order.

"Have a nice day, Mumbo! See you around!" He waves with his optimism, skipping out of the door right afterward. My eyes shift down to the brown object he placed next to the register.

A napkin?

I feel like I am being slow. My moron switch is still turned on all because I finally caught ahold of his name.

Grian.

I grab the napkin and flip it around, watching as it lazily flies and flops when I twist it. Ink writing comes into my view, my heart fluttering really fast as I scan my eyes across it.

'Hello, Mumbo! Text me XXX-XXXX. Would you like to join me at the Old Willow park outside of the city on Sunday, the 7th, at 3 pm? Text me your answer, please :D'

I felt like fainting. My clumsy hands struggled to grab ahold of the '15 minute break' sign. When I managed to slam it down on the counter, I practically ran to the back.

"ISKALL! His name is Grian!" I shout out after the employee only doors closed behind me. Luckily, Iskall hasn't left yet. His shift ends earlier than mine on Saturdays. He jumped at my outburst, dropping his jacket and phone at the same time.

"Mumbo! Oh my goodness!" Iskall exasperated huffs out and places one of his hands to his chest. I run over to him and frantically wave the napkin like it is on fire. He somehow managed to snatch the napkin from my hold, his available eye lighting up.
"Mumbo, you big spoon! You did it!"

Iskall laughs out, changing his agitated attitude in a matter of seconds. He seizes my hat, pulls me down by grabbing my shoulders (he likes to do that because I am a little bit taller than him) and ruffles my midnight hair with his knuckles roughly.

"Iskall!" I laugh and pull away from him. I can feel my hair sticking up like Albert Einstein's. Iskall just continued to chortle beside me and hands back my hat and napkin.

"Sorry sorry. I'm so proud of you!" Iskall punches my arm with a large toothy smile developing on his face. What is up with Swedish men being rough? And I thought Russian men were rough... "Are you going to meet him then?" Iskall asks after his happy fit.

"Well, of course!" I answer with full enthusiasm.