Chapter 2: Stikes Again
935 Words
Solei told herself she was never going back to Café Solana. Ever.
Unfortunately, she had also told herself that she needed their WiFi and matcha latte to survive nursing school. So… there she was. Again. Sitting in her usual spot, pretending not to look around every five seconds like a love-sick lab rat.
She tugged the sleeves of her oversized white hoodie over her hands, tapping her pen against her open notebook. Technically, she was supposed to be reviewing anatomy flashcards. In reality, she had spent the last ten minutes doodling tiny matcha cups with frowny faces on them.
It wasn’t her fault. Her brain was fried from clinicals, and her heart was still recovering from the trauma of last week—when she’d made the worst mistake of her life.
A soldier had asked for coins. She thought he asked for a kiss.
And then—because the universe had a sense of humor—he turned out to be tall, dark, devastatingly handsome, and probably part of some elite military squad that saved kittens and posed for calendars.
“Relax,” she whispered to herself. “He’s probably off being hot somewhere else. Like in the mountains. Or saving lives. Or modeling for Camouflage Monthly.”
She sank lower into her seat, hiding behind her laptop. Her iced matcha latte was half-finished, condensation sliding down the side of the glass like it was mocking her. She blew her bangs out of her eyes and reached for her phone.
No messages. No alerts. No green-eyed soldiers asking for kisses or coins.
Good.
Right?
But then, boom!
The bell over the door chimed. A gust of wind blew in. And in walked Mr. Lips.
This time, he wasn’t in uniform. He wore a simple white shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap. And those green eyes scanned the café like a heat-seeking missile.
Solei froze.
He saw her.
And smirked.
Her straw bent under her death grip. Panic bloomed in her chest like a bad allergic reaction.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, already sliding into the chair across from her.
“I—uh—you could’ve asked first.”
“I just did.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you always this cocky?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Only around cute girls who mistake me asking for coins as asking for a kiss.”
Her soul left her body.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” she groaned.
“Not a chance, Matcha Girl.”
She sighed and looked away, trying not to smile. “Do you always flirt with random girls in cafés?”
He shrugged. “Only the ones who give me free money and turn red like tomatoes.”
Solei covered her face again. Classic defense move.
She peeked through her fingers. He was still looking at her like she was the funniest thing on the menu.
“I’m Leo, by the way,” he added. “First Lieutenant Leonzaris Archimendez. Special Forces. But just Leo works.”
“Solei. Solei Rivera.”
“Cute name. Sounds like sunshine.”
“My mom named me after the sun.”
“I can see that.” He gave her a soft look—almost too soft for a guy with military arms and a tactical jawline.
She looked down, cheeks warm, and noticed something in his hands.
He had his own drink.
“Wait… is that—matcha?”
He smiled. “Yeah. Figured I’d see what all the fuss was about.”
“You—got matcha?” she blinked. “On purpose?”
“I thought it’d impress you.”
She leaned over, sipping her drink. “Does it taste like grass?”
He made a face. “Absolutely.”
They both burst out laughing, and for a moment, it felt like the whole café was just theirs.
Outside, the world buzzed. People walked by. Cars honked. But in that booth, with matcha drinks between them and a hundred unsaid words, time slowed.
Solei stared at Leo. Noticed how the afternoon light hit his cheekbones. How his smile crept in slow and confident, like he didn’t need permission to be charming.
“Why are you here?” she asked suddenly.
He blinked. “In the café?”
“In your off-duty clothes. Drinking matcha.”
He shrugged. “I was passing by. Figured I’d drop by to thank the girl who gave me ten pesos and a story to laugh about for the rest of my life.”
“Great,” she mumbled, sinking into her hoodie. “I’m a story now.”
“You’re a good one.”
Solei didn’t know what to say to that.
“Besides,” Leo added, “you left before I could return the favor.”
“What favor?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp ten-peso coin, sliding it across the table toward her.
“There. Debt repaid.”
She stared at it, then pushed it back.
“Keep it,” she said. “In case you forget your wallet again.”
He grinned. “Or in case I want another excuse to talk to you.”
Solei looked away quickly, ears burning.
“You’re dangerous,” she muttered.
“I’m a soldier. Comes with the job.”
Their eyes met.
And stayed.
And in that strange, soft moment, Solei thought maybe she wasn’t as doomed as she thought.
Maybe matcha lattes and mistaken kisses weren’t the worst way to start a love story after all.
- Writer
