Chapter 8 : book cafe and brew

The morning air was crisp, seeping through the slight gap in Hazel’s window. She shivered, pulling her blanket tighter around herself, reluctant to leave the warmth of her bed. But the sunlight streaming in left her no choice. With a groan, she pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes.

As she padded toward the mirror, she ran a hand through her hair. Messy. A complete disaster.

Not today.

With the weather getting colder, she decided to put in a little extra effort—not that it had anything to do with meeting Arav. Absolutely not. She just... wanted to feel put together.

After a hot shower, she slipped into a black turtleneck, layering it with a long beige coat. She paired it with dark blue jeans and ankle boots, something simple yet warm. Her hair, for once, wasn’t left in its usual rushed ponytail. She let it fall naturally, brushing just past her shoulders. A bit of mascara, a neutral lip shade, and she was ready.

Her phone buzzed.

Arav: “Bookstore café, right?”

Hazel smirked at the lack of greetings.

Hazel: “Yes. Try not to get lost on the way.”

No reply. Typical.

Grabbing her bag, she stepped out, the chilly air making her glad she’d chosen the coat.

—---

The bookstore café had the kind of warmth that made people want to stay longer than they intended. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the faint, familiar smell of old books. Hazel found a spot by the window, ordered a cappuccino, and pulled out her notes.

And then she waited.

And waited.

She checked the time. Arav was late.

Figures.

She leaned back, blowing on her coffee. The irony of him making her wait after all his comments about efficiency was not lost on her.

Her phone buzzed again.

Arav: “Running late. Ten minutes.”

Hazel rolled her eyes but found herself smirking. Maybe she’d make him suffer a little when he arrived.

Hazel tapped her fingers against the coffee cup, a mischievous glint in her eyes. If Arav thought he could just waltz in late without consequences, he had another thing coming.

She glanced around the café, watching as people flipped through books, sipped their drinks, or typed away on their laptops. The atmosphere was cozy, and for a moment, she let herself relax.

A few more minutes passed before the door finally swung open, letting in a rush of cold air—and him.

Arav stepped inside, running a hand through his wavy hair, slightly out of breath. He wore a black T-shirt under a dark gray jacket, the casual confidence in his stride almost enough to make Hazel forget she was supposed to be annoyed. Almost.

He spotted her immediately and walked over, sliding into the seat across from her.

"You’re late," Hazel said, taking a slow sip of her cappuccino.

Arav leaned back, unaffected. "You got a coffee already. Clearly, you survived."

Hazel raised an eyebrow. "Survived? I was seconds away from calling search and rescue."

Arav smirked, shaking his head. "Drama queen."

She placed her elbow on the table, resting her chin on her hand. "I just think it’s funny how you lecture people about efficiency, and yet, here you are."

He exhaled a laugh, finally taking off his jacket and stretching his arms. "Traffic. And I couldn’t find parking."

Hazel gave him a skeptical look. "Excuses, excuses."

Arav leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly. "You waited though."

She paused, her fingers curling around the warm cup. "It’s a project meeting. Of course, I waited."

His gaze flickered to her for a second longer before he sat back. "Right. The project."

Something about the way he said it made her stomach flip, but she pushed it aside.

Hazel cleared her throat and pulled out her notes. "Shall we begin, or do you need more time to recover from your 'struggle'?"

Arav chuckled, shaking his head as he grabbed his own notebook. "Let’s get to it, Roy."

Hazel flipped open her notebook, her pen tapping lightly against the page as she read through their project outline. "So, as we decided, the focus is on psychological triggers—what causes specific emotional or behavioral responses in people."

Arav nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah. Triggers are usually tied to past experiences, sometimes things people don’t even realize still affect them."

Hazel hummed in agreement. "Like how a certain song or smell can bring back a memory instantly."

Arav’s fingers drummed against the table. "Or how certain words or situations can set someone off without them even knowing why."

Hazel looked up at him, intrigued by his tone. "Sounds personal."

He exhaled, his gaze momentarily flickering to the window before returning to her. "I guess. People carry things they don’t talk about. And sometimes, those things show up in ways they can’t control."

She studied him for a second, sensing there was more beneath his words. "Like?"

Arav hesitated, then shrugged. "Like how some people avoid places or people without really knowing why. Or why some people hate birthdays, even though they should be happy occasions."

Hazel tilted her head. "You hate birthdays?"

His jaw tensed slightly before he smirked. "That was just an example, Roy. Don’t overanalyze me."

Hazel narrowed her eyes, knowing he was deflecting but choosing not to push—yet. Instead, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Well, psychology says people avoid things that remind them of pain. So if someone hates birthdays, it usually means something bad happened on one."

Arav huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You really don’t let things go, do you?"

She smirked. "Nope. It’s part of my charm."

He rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. "Anyway, back to the project."

Hazel let it slide for now, but as they continued their discussion, her mind lingered on his words. There was something there—something unspoken. And for the first time, she realized she wanted to understand him more than she expected.

Hazel stretched her arms, closing her notebook with a satisfied sigh. "Alright, I think we made decent progress. Now, food."

Arav smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Hungry already?"

She shot him a look. "You were late, Mr. Unreachable. You owe me lunch."

Arav exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "You really hold grudges, huh?"

Hazel grinned. "Only when there's free food involved."

He stood up, grabbing his jacket. "Fine. Where to?"

Hazel thought for a moment, then pointed outside. "There's a small diner down the street. Cozy place, good food."

Arav nodded, and they headed out. The wind was crisp, making Hazel pull her coat tighter around her as they walked.

"By the way," Arav said as they neared the diner, "I don’t do this whole ‘compensation’ thing often, so don’t get used to it."

Hazel smirked. "Noted. But now that I know you’re capable of it, I might start keeping track."

Arav huffed a quiet laugh, holding the door open for her. "Great. Can’t wait."

As they stepped inside, the comforting aroma of freshly cooked meals filled the air. The diner was warm, a stark contrast to the chilly weather outside. A few college students and locals occupied the booths, some engaged in quiet conversations, others focused on their meals.

Hazel slid into a booth by the window, rubbing her hands together to chase away the lingering cold. Arav sat across from her, stretching his arms before grabbing the menu.

"So, what’s the damage?" he asked, scanning the options.

Hazel smirked, resting her chin on her hand. "Since you were late, I’m thinking something heavy. Maybe a full meal. Burger, fries, extra cheese—"

Arav sighed, shaking his head. "You’re shameless."

"And you’re paying, so why complain?" she shot back, grinning.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he flagged down a waiter and placed their order—a classic cheeseburger and fries for Hazel, while he settled on grilled chicken and rice.

As they waited, Hazel tapped her fingers on the table. "You always eat so... functional?"

Arav raised a brow. "Functional?"

"Yeah. No fun. No mess. Just straight-up nutrition."

He smirked. "And you? You like meals that are a challenge to eat?"

"Exactly," Hazel said proudly. "The messier, the better. It’s part of the experience."

Arav chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re something else, Roy."

Before Hazel could respond, their food arrived, steam rising from their plates. She immediately picked up a fry, popping it into her mouth with a satisfied hum.

As they ate, their conversation shifted between light teasing and small talk about college. And somewhere between bites, Hazel realized something—this didn’t feel forced. It didn’t feel like she had to try.

It was easy.

And that was probably the most dangerous part of all.

Arav wasn’t usually one to get distracted while eating, but right now, he barely registered the food in front of him. Instead, his gaze kept drifting toward Hazel—how she animatedly spoke between bites, how she barely noticed the smear of sauce on the corner of her lips, how effortlessly she made even a simple meal feel... warm.

Hazel caught him staring mid-bite, her lips curling into a smirk. "You’re watching me like I just unlocked the secret to the universe."

Arav blinked, looking down at his plate as if that would cover up the fact that she had absolutely caught him. "You eat like you’re fighting for your life. It’s kind of fascinating."

She let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Food is meant to be enjoyed. Speaking of which—" She picked up a fry, dipping it generously into ketchup before holding it out to him. "Try this. My way."

Arav raised an eyebrow. "You think I haven’t had fries before?"

"Not like this," she said playfully, wiggling the fry in front of him.

He stared at her for a second before leaning forward slightly, taking the bite straight from her hand. Hazel hadn’t actually expected him to do it, and for a split second, she was the one caught off guard.

He chewed slowly, his expression unreadable. Then, he simply shrugged. "Not bad."

Hazel rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, that was a solid fry experience."

His lips twitched as he leaned back in his seat. "If you say so, Roy."

She huffed but didn’t push it further, instead focusing on finishing her meal. But as they continued eating, Arav couldn’t shake the thought—there was something different about today. Something about Hazel that made him forget about the noise in his head.

And maybe... just maybe, that was worth holding onto.

As Hazel focused on finishing her meal, Arav casually reached for his phone. The moment was too effortless, too unfiltered to ignore. She was mid-laugh, eyes crinkling slightly, her hand gesturing animatedly as she spoke. Without thinking twice, he tilted his phone just enough and tapped the screen.

Click.

A subtle snapshot—nothing staged, nothing deliberate. Just Hazel, lost in the moment, completely unaware.

He quickly locked his phone and slipped it back into his pocket, pretending to take a sip of his drink. Hazel was too caught up in whatever argument she was making about the superiority of crispy fries to notice.

But Arav did. He noticed everything.

After finishing their meal, Hazel stretched her arms. “Alright, time to get back to work before we start owing each other more things.”

Arav chuckled. “Good idea. Let’s wrap this up.”

They returned to their seats, refocusing on their project. The discussion flowed easily, with Hazel jotting down notes while Arav leaned back, occasionally throwing in thoughts. The topic of triggers had led to unexpected conversations, but they didn’t push further—there was an unspoken understanding between them.

finishing their project at the bookstore café, Hazel stretched her arms and let out a satisfied sigh. “Well, that was productive.”

Arav glanced at his watch. “Yeah. Took longer than expected.”

Hazel smirked. “That’s what happens when someone shows up late.”

Arav rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he stood up, grabbing his jacket. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

Hazel raised an eyebrow. “Feeling extra responsible today?”

He just shrugged, holding the door open for her as they stepped out into the cool evening air.

They walked side by side, the streets quieter than before, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. Their conversation drifted from the project to random topics—music, food, even a debate about whether pineapple belonged on pizza. Hazel, of course, argued it didn’t.

“You’re so dramatic,” Arav said, shaking his head.

“And you have terrible taste.”

Arav let out a small chuckle. “You’re impossible, Roy.”

Hazel grinned. “Yet, here you are, voluntarily walking me home.”

He didn’t respond to that, but there was an amused glint in his eyes.

By the time they reached her apartment building, Hazel turned to face him. “Well, thanks for the walk.”

Arav nodded. “Yeah.”

She hesitated for a second before a thought hit her. She tilted her head. “Wait… how are you getting back?”

Arav frowned slightly. “What?”

Hazel folded her arms, a slow smirk forming. “You drove to the café, remember?”

There was a beat of silence. Then Arav blinked. “Oh, shit.”

Hazel let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Wow. For someone who notices everything, you completely forgot about your car.”