Vanessa was running late. Later than she normally would. The lack of sleep took over her body as she entered the coffee shop on 5th street. The one she would go to every single morning. It had become such a big part of her routine. She wasn't sure how she would fill the time in the morning if it wasn't sitting here. Getting through the night was usually hard enough.

But somehow, last night, she managed to get a few hours of sleep. More than she could remember getting in a long time and even though she got more sleep, her body felt less rested than ever. She contemplated getting a double shot of coffee this morning, double what she would normally get.

She tried to stay away from caffeine in hopes that it would help her sleep the next night, but as with every other night, sleep would never come and caffeine would be a requirement to get her day started.

The images of last night's terror would dance through her head as she waited in line to order her drink. This was her least favorite part of the morning. She didn't enjoy having to talk to anyone. Especially not after a night like last night. The terror wouldn't seem to leave her. Reaching down, she fiddled with her wrists, trying to loosen the tension that was leftover from last night.

She'd woken up on the couch, which was strange because that's not where she had fallen asleep. This wasn't unusual for Vanessa though, as almost every time she slept, something was bound to happen.

Her dream had felt so real she couldn't tell if it had actually happened or not. At this point, she was just assuming that it was a dream. But the more she lacked sleep, the more vivid they got and the harder it was to tell what was real or not.

The reason her wrists were sore was a mystery to her, but the images of the handcuffs from last night were still strong on her mind. Had she gotten arrested before she went to bed? Was she really in the back of a police car? They wouldn't have just let her go home, would they? What crime had she committed to be put in that place?

After ordering her drink, she waited for her coffee to be delivered to her at the seat she would take every single morning. At this point, they might as well put a sign out with her name on it.

Before Vanessa could even get her laptop opened to her emails, someone gently placed the coffee on the table in front of her. The quickness of the barista was startling to her. Did they know what her drink was ahead of time? It hadn't even been a few minutes since she had sat down. She smiled, muttered a thank you anyway, but never moved her eyes. Only when the hand sat there for longer than she expected did she turn to look at the person smiling back at her.

It was a young man, with a chiseled jaw that came to a point, thin mostly flat lips, and messy brown hair that looked as if he hadn't brushed it in a few days. It was hard to tell what color his eyes were behind the black frames surrounding them, but Vanessa didn't have the time to notice.

"Here's your coffee ma'am." His sweet voice echoed through the air, leaving her startled that someone had spoken to her this morning. Normally, the only pleasantries she had to share on her way to work were handing the money over to the cashier after she ordered her drink.

This man looked familiar though and she couldn't place where she had seen him before. Was he the one who took her order? She shook her head, her long black hair falling in messy waves around her face. Her hair wasn't something she had spent hours working on to perfect, her waves came more naturally, and were a mess from tossing and turning all night long. It was a natural look for her, while others would spend hours trying to get the same style. Vanessa spent her time doing other things.

"Uh.. thank you..." Vanessa stuttered back, still startled by someone talking to her. Sit up straight, smile, and try to look like you are running on more than three hours of sleep, she would remind herself. The comments never helped, and they would frustrate her more than anything else.

"Anytime ma'am." The barista smiled at her, showing his perfect white teeth. It was a gentle smile that pulled Vanessa in. She wanted to see it again. He stood there awkwardly, staring as if he wanted to say something else to her. Did he want to say something else?

"You are in here every single morning, aren't you?" The question was rather bold, but the way he said it seemed like the most casual small talk in the world. This allowed Vanessa to relax her shoulders a bit, and to take a less defensive response with him.

Vanessa didn't know how he had done it, considering the last time she let anyone into her life was when she was doing job interviews for her current position. She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and realized she was now over fifteen minutes late to work. She hadn't meant to sit down, but following the motions that she would do every single morning had left her not realizing the time.

"Um, yes, I am actually," Vanessa muttered. Her words were quiet, and a little hard to hear, but the man leaned forward and did the best with what he could do. She jumped up from her seat and very quickly started gathering all of her work supplies into a pile.

"No, I didn't want to startle you away. I'm sorry, you just looked familiar." The barista took a few steps back to give her space. She collected all of her things, throwing them into her work bag with no sense of organization.

"You didn't. I just realized I'm very late for work." She pushed past him, lightly bumping his shoulder as she tried to make it around one of the other tables, her coffee still firmly in her hand. He reached out and grabbed her arm, sparks flying from his touch almost immediately.

Now, this startled her.

"Can I at least get your name before you go?" He paused for a moment, watching her under his grip. Once he realized he was holding her, he let go, holding his hands up in the air as a surrender. Vanessa couldn't think straight, though. The shock of his grip doing so much to her body, the weariness from the lack of sleep, and the panic from being late yet again this week was causing her heart to race inside her chest. A ringing filled her ears and echoed so loudly she could barely hear the question he had asked her.

"Vanessa." She got the word out as quickly as she could, turning on her heel to run out the front door of the coffee shop. She'd need to remind herself to not stop in there on days she was already running late.

She wasn't sure why the barista had taken an interest in her today, and she was nervous to show up tomorrow morning just in case he was there again. She didn't want to have to switch coffee shops though, as this was the one that had the best coffee on her way to work. If she went to another one, she would have to leave her house extra early just to have enough time to get her drink. This one always made it perfect, though.

Vanessa took a sip of said coffee as her feet carried her down the sidewalk of New York. She loved the big city. It was easy for her to hide in the shadows and not be noticed. Everyone was so focused on themselves that she could have been a literal walking zombie and they wouldn't even notice. Instead, she was just a regular girl who felt like a walking zombie's epitome.

It didn't take her long to get to her office, and by the time she was there, everyone was already done with the morning meeting. She would have to get notes from her boss. She hated getting notes from her boss, though, as it was just one more thing that would make her feel bad about being late.

Vanessa did her best to take a breath, and while she did so, her thoughts wandered back to the man at the coffee shop. Was today really the first time she had seen him? Or did he feel oddly comfortable because he was there every morning? She'd never noticed any of the workers at the coffee shop. She was always too busy trying to figure out what was real from the night before.

Things weren't always like this, but as she got older, they seemed to get worse. The stress of life made things harder on her and she always felt like she was drowning. But that could be just another one of her nightmares. She wasn't sure she was really at work right now. Could she still be wrapped up all cozy in her blankets back home?

Was the interaction at the coffee shop just another one of her fears? She seemed to be scared of everything these days. Social interaction would be one of the weirder ones on her list, but she couldn't disregard it just yet.

"Vanessa!" A harsh voice comes barreling around her cubicle walls. Vanessa let out a sigh, knowing the voice all too well and realizing that if she didn't get her tardiness figured out, she wouldn't have to deal with him too much longer. Jeffrey stands next to the paper-thin wall, his hands on his hips as if he felt he was a superhero in a comic book. Vanessa wanted to roll her eyes, but knowing she was already in the wrong, this wouldn't help the situation.

"What's your excuse for today?" Jeffrey asks, his voice more degrading than anything else.

"I don't have one." Vanessa took another sip of her coffee, taking in the drink's warmth. Any comfort she could get, she would take.

"Are you freaking kidding me!" His voice was growing louder, and everyone in the office was listening to their conversation. She hated his lack of respect for privacy. This was a common problem in the office. But what could you expect from a place with over thirty people packed into one tiny room to save on the budget?

"No, Jeffrey, I'm sorry. I really don't have a reason for you." Vanessa paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to handle this conversation. "I overslept, and didn't hear my alarm this morning. I'll try to do better in the future." Vanessa hadn't overslept in years, though. She couldn't remember the last night she got a full eight hours. She'd be lucky to get three like she had last night. But was it really luck when she was sleeping? It wasn't a good sleep, it was sleep filled with terrifying nightmares, leaving her waking up in cold sweats and confusion.

"You will do better in the future or else you won't be here anymore." Jeffrey snarls, placing his hand on her desk, basically begging for her eye contact. But Vanessa wouldn't follow suit.

"Next time, do not get a coffee on your way to work. There's some in the break room. If you weren't stopping for your ten-dollar coffee, you'd be on time. Now get to work." Jeffrey was gone just as quickly as he had shown up.

Vanessa connected her laptop, getting her emails pulled up so she could get to work on pulling the data she would need for the reports for this afternoon's meeting. So many meetings. How was anyone ever supposed to get anything done?

But while she worked, her thoughts kept sneaking back to the barista, and the way his hand sizzled her skin with electricity when he touched her.

What was his name?