That boy was here again.

Emil mentally groaned as he spied on him from behind the curtain that separated the dining area from the kitchen. "He's here again." He muttered under his breath as his eyes spotted the object of his displeasure. This was the 4th time this week that the boy had stopped by the coffee shop.

"Stop spying on the costumers" His brother, Lukas, suddenly appeared from behind and lightly thumped him on the head. "You'll scare them away."

Emil simply rolled his eyes, paying no attention to his brother's orders. "He's been here for 30 minutes, and all he's done is just sit there. He hasn't ordered anything, can't we kick him out for loitering or something? He's disrupting the other costumers."

Lukas sighed and turned Emil's head towards the counter where Tino were working the cash register. "He hasn't ordered anything because he's waiting for your shift to start." He said lamely, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He was waiting to see him? Why on earth would anyone want to see him?! Emil peeked out again and studied him closely for the first time. He seemed to be of Asian origin, had dark choppy hair, thick eyebrows, and brown eyes. Emil guessed that he was probably 17 or 18, somewhere around his own age. For the past few weeks, he had been coming in each day at around the same time, always ordering the same thing and sitting in the same spot.

Lukas followed his glance. "You know, it wouldn't hurt you to make a new friend. Or any friends, in general."

Emil shot a glare at his brother. "I have friends!" He huffed annoyed, although he couldn't keep out the hint of uncertainty that slipped into his words.

"A talking puffin and your Turkish history teacher don't count. You need friends your own age." Lukas chided in his annoying 'big brother' voice. He sighed and pushed Emil out from behind the curtain and into the dining area. "Your shift started 2 minutes ago."

Emil lurch forward, caught off guard by the sudden force. He staggered awkwardly as he struggled to regain his balance, his arms failing all over the place like a madman and feet stomping loudly on the limestone floor. Many costumers turned to look at Emil as he struggled to keep himself from falling flat on his face and among them was the ever present Asian boy, who despite the blank expression on his face, wasn't able to keep the corner of his mouth from tugging up into a small smirk.

Emil finally managed to stand up straight, and when he did he rushed over to the counter as fast as he could, trying to keep his cheeks from turning even redder than they already were and his heart from pounding fast in his chest. He was going to kill Lukas later, are at the very least throw away all his butter from the fridge.

Tino offered him a sympathetic smile and a small pat on the back, although it was easy to see that the kind Finnish man was trying to keep himself from laughing as well. "Good luck, Emil" He said cheerfully as he took of his apron and handed it to Emil.

Emil reluctantly took it and tied it around his waist. "Thanks," He mumbled, as he glanced at the clock that was slowly counting down the minutes of his 3 hour shift. Grabbing a rag, he began to slowly wipe down the counter as he waited for the next costumer.

"Cheer up, Emil." Tino called out as he walked towards the kitchen to take his break. "Your friend is here!"

"He's not my friend!" Emil's head shot up and he spun around to glare at Tino, but to his annoyance the Finnish man had already left. "I don't even know him." He muttered bitterly as he scrubbed harder at the already crystal clean marble. Why did that make him feel a little bit disappointed? It's not like he wanted to get to know him.

Footsteps approached the counter, and Emil looked up to greet the customer. "Hi, are you ready to...oh, it's you." His voice trailed off when he saw who it was. Apparently someone had finally decided to order something after sitting at a table for half an hour.

"Were you, like, expecting someone else?" The boy looked at him blankly, his face void of any sort of emotion, although there was a light hint of amusement in his voice.

Emil bit his lip to keep himself from retorting back with his own snarky remark. "Same as usual, right?" He asked, already beginning to type in the order into the computer without even bothering to hear his reply. The sooner he got rid of him, the better.

"Uh, yeah, but just one thing..." He seemed hesitant to make his special request, but his uncertainty soon disappeared. "Can you hold the sugar? You're already sweet enough."

Emil's finger paused in mid air as he was about to type in a special note to hold the sugar. His heart pounded in his head as his mind replayed the words a hundred times. "Did...did you just use a pickup line on me?!" He demanded, gaping at the boy as he tried to keep the heat of his cheeks from rising too much.

The boy shrugged, and leaned in closer to look at Emil straight in the eye. "I might of. Did it, like, work?" He asked, his emotionless composure never once wavering despite how small the distance between them was.

Emil scowled at him. "What do you think?" He growled as he snatched the printed receipt from the machine and slapped it on the counter. His face got even redder.

The boy remained still, seemly unfazed by Emil's reaction. He made no effort to pick up his receipt and instead leaned his elbow on the counter to make himself my comfortable. "Well," He said slowly, his dark eyes beginning to sparkle with amusement as they studied Emil. "You didn't slap me, or like kick me out. And you're blushing...so I'm assuming...yes."

"Emil picked up the receipt, crushed it into a little ball, and threw it at him. "I'm not blushing!" He insisted, his voice getter higher with each word. He couldn't believe this guy, who was he anyway, some kind of creep?

"You, like, totally are." The boy stood up straight and held out his hand. "I'm Leon."

Emil glanced down at his hand, but refused to shake it. "That's great, we'll call your name when your order is ready." He peeked over Leon's shoulder to the line that was already forming behind him. "Next!" He called loudly, clearly emphasizing the fact that Leon should leave already.

Leon's face faltered for a second and he frowned slightly. He remained where he was, as if he was rooted to the ground, determined to stay and have an actual conversation with Emil. "And you are?"

"Next!" Emil called out again, while staring daggers at the person who was in the front of the line and was too distracted by their phone to realize it was their turn to order. He sighed in frustration and drummed his fingers on the counter in anticipation.

Leon was still there, staring at him quietly, his eyebrows knitted together in deep thought. Emil was starting to get really annoyed with him. "Why are you still here?"

Leon watched him for a few seconds before speaking up again. "I think I'll call you Ice." He finally said, nodding slightly to show that he was pleased with the name. "It suits you."

"...what?" Emil blinked in confusion. Was he giving him a nickname? "Ice?"

"Yeah, Ice." Leon reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled up receipt that Emil had thrown at him. Flattening it out, he spread it out on the counter and quickly wrote down something on it. "Here," He said plainly, shoving the piece of paper into Emil's hands. "Text me if you ever wanna hang out."

For the split second that their hands touched, Emil felt electric currents run through his fingers and his heart began to pound at an insanely fast rate. Then as soon as the feeling had come on, it was gone and he couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed.

On the piece of paper was a string of numbers that he presumed to be Leon's phone number. Normally he would have just thrown it away, but something felt different. He could feel Leon's eyes watching him, anxiously waiting for his reaction.

Emil carefully folded the paper and placed it in his pocket for later. "I will." He finally replied with faint smile tugging at his lips.

Perhaps making a new friend wasn't such a terrible idea.