Ella brushed the shoulders of a stranger on the sidewalk with a strong sense of urgency to get nowhere in particular. Her brisk walking speed uncharacteristic despite the abnormally frigid January afternoon. As she stumbled into the coffee shop on 9th street, she instantly relaxed. Was it the warmth of the fireplace or did she find herself one step further from the loneliness of her apartment? She timidly approached the counter, despite having visited this particular cafe many times. “Hey El, staying warm?” said the barista, a middle aged man with rounded spectacles and a refined oiled mustache indicative of frequent self upkeep. “I am now…” she said curtly, looking at the floor. Suddenly her cheeks flushed red, self-conscious of her rudeness. “I love that you make this place so cozy, Jake” said Ella, blurting the first compliment that came to her mind. Inspired by her optimism, Jake went right to work on her usual: Double cappuccino with whole milk and a splash of vanilla syrup. Easy enough for someone of his skill. Jake was an outwardly unserious man, yet treated his craft in much the same way as his perfectly sculpted mustache. Ella always thought his latte art, artistically poured her drink with careful precision, was unnecessary as she usually just drank coffee for the taste. Yet, she could never take her eyes off the effortless movement of his wrists and mastery over the weight of the metal pot. Ella knew she wasn’t attracted to the man, yet there was something undeniably reassuring about the sense of control he emanated, in stark contrast to her life of chaos.