Dan blinked open his eyes, squinting against the bright morning light. The harsh calls of crows jabbed at his ears. He rolled over onto his stomach, pulling his dark pillow over his head to muffle the noise. After a few minutes the boy groaned, flipping once again onto his back and pushing some curly fringe out of his face before mumbling something about "fucking birds". He swung his feet over the edge of his bed, sitting up and glancing at the clock, which read 11:30. Peeling the checkered sheets off himself, the boy rubbed his eyes vigorously and attempted to rake his fingers through his tangled hair. He yawned widely and stood up, glancing in the mirror at his disheveled, sleepy self and making his way to the kitchen.

He shook some cinnamon cereal into a bowl, plopping down into a chair and shoveling it mechanically into his mouth. It was a wednesday, and he felt like having coffee. He'd been fired from his job the day before (apparently when people left devices logged in to their social media at the apple store you aren't supposed to hack their account) and he was feeling low. What now?

Dan showered quickly and slipped into some black skinny jeans and a black T-shirt with a large white circle on the front. After painstakingly straightening his dark brown hair, he grabbed his flaky wallet and stuck his hands in his pockets, removing them only to open the front door. He began walking down the street toward the local Caribou Coffee. He opened the door, feeling the air rush by him and breathing in the scent of coffee and wood and feeling the warmth engulf him.

It wasn't your average coffee shop- the dimly lit room was lined with cushy, worn down couches. Lots of twinkle lights decorated the walls and ceiling and some bean bags rested in corners. Dark oak tables were scattered among the furniture, as though someone had thrown them down randomly from high above.

A small bell dangling from the door gave a twinkling cry as he walked in. Dan went up to the counter, placing a hand on wood that was marked and scarred, telling innumerable stories. "Could I have a large Caramel Macchiato?" He always seemed to phrase his orders as questions, despite the fact that, obviously, it wasn't as if anyone would refuse.

He finally looked up at the man behind the counter and blinked. Shit, he's pretty, was the first thing that flitted through his mind- like another noisy bird, trying to wake him up. It was a tall guy that looked to be a few years older than Dan. He had ivory skin and black hair, with fringe much like Dan's, going the opposite direction. However, the most notable thing about him was his eyes. Dan was sure you could go swimming in them. They were a dazzling blue, lined with fragile, light eyelashes that looked like little snowflakes in this space. His mouth went dry as the man gave an adorable half smile, that went up a bit higher on the left side, and said brightly, "Yeah! That's my favorite thing to get here." He then turned around and busied himself with making the order.

Dan dragged his eyes away from this brilliant light and padded over to his favorite spot, a soft, dark brown bean bag nestled into a far corner. He lowered himself into the cushion, feeling the foam beads mold around his body, allowing him to sink in. He sighed heavily, pulling out his phone and opening up tumblr, mindlessly scrolling through the posts and occasionally pressing the small heart.

Eventually the beautiful guy with entire oceans in his eyes came over and set Dan's espresso drink on an authentic looking round table nearby. Dan glanced up, eyes wide and enraptured, and the man gave a small smile.

"My name's Phil, by the way." He murmured- and winked. Then Phil walked away, into a back room and out of sight. Dan frowned slightly, speechless, not liking the way his heart swelled and beat frantically like the wings of butterflies in his stomach whenever he saw this blue eyed boy. The Caribou was barren of customers except for him- it wasn't an unpopular place, but it was a weekday and most people came here at night or early in the mornings. He sat back, sipping his macchiato contently, pushing away thoughts of finding a job, doing something with his life, etcetera. He thought of Phil and quietly whispered his name, liking the way it rolled off his tongue, sounding like a soft expression, lilting in the middle. It was an entire song curled up into a shimmering word.

After a while he threw away his cup and walked out the door, the bell protesting loudly as he exited the shop. He got home and trudged to his bedroom, heaving himself onto the dark blanket. He stared at the ceiling, but all he saw was a pair of bright blue eyes.

The next week went by in a fog of dry cereal, noodles and tumblr. Dan often found himself forgetting what day it was, with every day the same. He browsed some job openings but never found the energy to follow through with any. Finally, one day he decided to at least leave the house- suddenly he really felt like having a nice hot caramel macchiato. And seeing a certain blue-eyed waiter, he pushed the thought away almost before it had entered his mind, shaking his head as if clearing away a pesky bug. That waiter was nothing special, just a cute guy who happened to serve him. Or at least, that's what he screamed at himself as he slipped on a Muse shirt and some dark jeans.

He exited the small apartment. Lost in thought, Dan barely noticed as the people and street sign passed in a blurr. Before he knew it, the bell was jingling and he stepped into the cozy shop. He blinked, shaking his head and bringing himself out of the haze. He looked up as he reached the counter- straight into twinkling blue eyes. Damn.

So much for convincing himself this man wasn't special. Phil flashed him a shy smile. "Hi, what can I get you today?"

Dan stammered a little, mind blank, before mechanically listing off his order.

"You were here last week, weren't you?" the black haired boy pulled his eyebrows together slightly, and Dan's heart did several backflips. He remembered me oh god wow he didn't forget wow.

Dan's chocolate eyes widened slightly. "Yeah, um, sorry, what day is it again?"

Phil gave a laugh and Dan swore it was the purest sound on earth, happy and joyous and simple. "Wednesday," He replied, and continued "it's a weird word, isn't it? It should be pronounced Wed-nes-day, but everyone just says 'Wensday'. Kind of like bologna."

Dan giggled quietly at this small ramble, and Phil bounced away to make his drink, going on about how he had thought bologna was a perfume until he was eight. The brown haired boy went to sit in his favorite bean bag, keeping his phone in his pocket this time, just looking around and listening to the peaceful bluegrass music that was waltzing through a few speakers on the walls.

Eventually Phil walked over, a faint raspberry smell lingering around him. He was about to hand Dan the coffee, when suddenly his eyes lit up and he made a wild gesture to Dan's shirt, nearly spilling the hot beverage all over himself. "Muse is my favorite band!" he practically screeched. Dan grinned. "Oh, same." Phil's sky filled gaze flitted around the empty room, before coming to rest on Dan again. He passed the man his warm foam cup and and their fingers brushed lightly. Dan shivered, and he swore an electric spark ran up his arm, acutely aware of the small touch. Phil then sat down on the torn and sagging green chair next to Dan.

They talked for hours, about bands and games and tv shows and everything. Dan found himself laughing uncontrollably and feeling more insanely happy than he had been in- well, in forever.

Phil would occasionally glance around to see if he was needed to work, but his boss, a shorter man with sweet hair named Connor kept waving him off, claiming things were under control even as the shop filled up and emptied again, like waves against a beach, finding the sand only to recede again and continue searching in swirls of confusion.

Soon it was dark outside and the shop was quiet again. The low murmur of life had faded away sometime after 8 or 9 o'clock. Connor finally came over to the two and announced that the Caribou was closing in 10 minutes. Dan checked his phone. "Holy shit!" He exclaimed.

"What?" Phil asked quickly.

"It's already 10:30" Dan looked up, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

"Oh, oops! Sorry Connor!" Phil called after his coworker. Connor merely raised an overly suggestive eyebrow and smirked, suddenly seeming very busy cleaning stuff in the back room.

Phil shrugged, turning back to Dan with the left side of his mouth quirked upward. "Alright, well I should probably help him. See you next Wednesday?" His light eyebrows lifted closer to his dark fringe, his face glowing with hope.

Dan grinned. "Sure."

Is this a date holy fuck ahh damn ok I don't know? No way. He's way too good nah that wouldn't happen stop it Dan.

"Wednesday."