Espresso in The Rain

The rain poured in steady sheets, turning the city streets into a blur of neon reflections and slick pavement. Noah Kim tightened his grip on the strap of his messenger bag as he sprinted across the road, cursing under his breath. His sneakers splashed into a puddle, soaking the hem of his tailored slacks. Great. Another reason for his mother to lecture him about "presenting himself properly."

Drenched and irritated, Noah spotted the warm glow of a coffee shop just ahead. The Roasted Haven. He had passed it plenty of times but never stepped inside. Engineering students at his university lived off vending machine coffee and instant ramen, not handcrafted lattes. But at this moment, with the rain drenching his clothes and his patience hanging by a thread, the café felt like an oasis.

The chime above the door jingled as he stepped in, a gust of warm air hitting his face. The scent of freshly brewed espresso, cinnamon, and something sweet—vanilla?—washed over him, instantly comforting. The space was intimate, lined with dark wooden bookshelves and dim lighting that softened the storm outside.

A deep, amused voice broke his trance. "You look like a cat that got caught in the rain."

Noah turned, brushing damp strands of hair from his face. Behind the counter stood a man who looked like he belonged in a high-end magazine rather than a small coffee shop. His black hair was slightly tousled, brushing the nape of his neck. Dark eyes studied Noah with quiet amusement. His build was strong but lean, and the way his shirt clung to his arms made it clear he was no stranger to hard work.

The man wiped his hands on a towel and leaned against the counter. "Need a towel or just coffee?"

Noah squared his shoulders, pushing down the heat creeping up his neck. "Both."

The man chuckled, disappearing for a moment before returning with a clean towel. He handed it over, their fingers grazing. It was the briefest touch, but it sent a small jolt up Noah's spine.

"Thanks," Noah muttered, quickly pulling away.

The man smirked. "You got a name, or should I just call you 'Wet Cat'?"

Noah shot him a look. "Noah. Noah Kim."

"Elias Carter," the man introduced himself smoothly. "Welcome to The Roasted Haven. What can I get you?"

Noah hesitated. His usual order was black coffee—quick, strong, no nonsense. But something about Elias's confident smirk made him want to stray from his routine.

"What do you recommend?"

Elias raised an eyebrow. "Feeling adventurous, are we?" He tapped his fingers against the counter before turning to the espresso machine. "I'll make you something special."

Noah sat at the bar, rubbing the towel over his damp hair as he watched Elias work. There was an effortless grace in his movements, each step measured and precise. The way he pulled the espresso shot, steamed the milk, and added a final drizzle of caramel—it was mesmerizing.

Moments later, Elias slid the cup toward him. "Try it."

Noah took a sip, and his eyes widened. The bitterness of the espresso blended perfectly with the sweetness of vanilla and caramel, smooth and rich. It wasn't what he usually drank, but damn, it was good.

"Wow."

Elias grinned. "Not bad, huh?"

Noah set the cup down, licking a stray drop of foam from his lip. "You could say that."

The moment stretched between them, the café suddenly quieter than before. Outside, the rain continued to fall, but inside, something new was brewing.

Something unexpected.

And maybe—just maybe—Noah wouldn't mind coming back for another cup.