Disclaimer: The World Ends With You and all affiliated characters do not belong to me.
There's something about the way he moves that intrigues me. He carries himself with a hint of a swagger, he saunters everywhere, and for some odd reason my eyes are just drawn to him.
He is a humble man- a man amongst children, it seems, for even he, a simple barista, is wise beyond his years. The prices of his coffee may suggest otherwise, but the way he speaks, gestures, moves… it suggest humility that is displaced, not supposed to be there but it just is and it seems right, seems good.
Those first words—
"You come around here much?"
And all of a sudden I feel as if I'm the one who should be humble, despite my position in this city, this world in a world of it's very own making.
"You just seem as if you're the type that's always busy… although I'm not one to dictate how you live your life."
And yet I want to say the same to him. I nod, hold up my wallet, and he understands the sign.
"… So, what'll it be?"
A simple order- a grin on his part, a small passing smile on my own lips- and I already feel comfortable with this man.
Perhaps there is more to him than meets the human eye.
But of course… who was- am- I to speak of what is human?