Prompt: "So, I work at this café, and you come in, sobbing so hard that you can barely order your… was it chocolate caramel frappe? Dude. I'm going to have to wipe that table when you're done crying on it."

Chell never liked working at this place. The scruffy man who worked the counter with her always seemed to be drawing in a notebook, and the shift manager was the worst. The boss clearly had her as a favorite though, and there was nothing they could do about it.

But oh no. Today was a day where she was glaring daggers into the man at the table off to the side, where lonely writers sat with their laptops to woe about all the world's troubles. He wasn't that sort, though. Instead, he had his face buried into his crossed arms, crying into the table.

She was going to have to wipe it down by the time he was done crying.

Her co-worker eventually walked up to the side and called out in her typical, demanding voice:

"Wheatley!"

The sobbing man's head snapped up, and he came over to get it, Chell's co-worker practically shoving it into his chest before going to take the next order. Chell watched out of the corner of her eye as he sat back down, crying while he sipped the large chocolate caramel frappe.

The end of Chell's shift ticked closer, and the man was still at the table with about one-fourth of his frappe left. Her co-worker eyed her then the man, which implied that she was now stuck cleaning it up while her and the other worker tidied up the counter spaces.

Chell took up her cloths and water and cleaned every table around the man first, hoping he'd take the hint… but to no avail. He sat there, having stopped crying when the puddle of tears became obvious, and instead was staring forlornly at the plastic cup.

She began to clean the table itself, and still he refused to move. Chell leaned over, checking the name on his cup before talking.
"Wheatley? I'm going to need to ask you to leave?"

He didn't respond right away, instead heaving a great sigh and pulling out his phone, flicking through images. Chell rolled her eyes and lifted his cup to clean under it, and was just about to walk away when he held it out towards her.

It was a picture of an adorable dog, looking right at the camera. He flicked to the next one and hit the screen as a video began playing. The dog was barking and wagging it's tail as someone with a slight accent (British?) spoke in the background.

"Molly! Here you go Molly!" A treat dropped in front and Chell found herself suddenly attached to this small adorable dog.

"Are they yours?"

The man burst into tears again, sobbing into his other hand, and Chell felt awful. Putting two and two together, she knew what happened.

Briskly walking away to finish cleaning all the other tables and clock out, she came back to Wheatley and lifted him up out of his seat, where he was at risk to get the table dirty again.

"Come on, let's go."

Wheatley kept on crying, while Chell managed to drag him outside towards a bench in the park across the street.

When they sat down, he started to talk.

"Molly was such a precious puppy… and she's in the vet's office right now. She is always so happy and there's just something about her that makes others light up with joy! And the vet is saying she doesn't have a chance."

Chell listened as he kept going on and on about this dog, who was six years old, the light of his life, something he came home to every day and rarely barked, had to go the same way every walk, loved lettuce and popcorn… the overwhelming amount of information she suddenly knew about this dog became too much by the time Wheatley cared to stop.

"I hope she gets well soon."

After confirming he would be able to get home, Chell left him on the bench, and sighed to herself, hoping that people like that wouldn't come into the coffee shop often. She felt horrible, yes, because he cared so much for the puppy, but… it wasn't really her business.

"What's your name?" Wheatley was back again the next day. His eyes were red from crying so much, but he looked a little better today. Chell found herself curious about the dog – if Wheatley maybe had any good news.

"Chell," she responded. "Are you getting the same thing as yesterday?"

"Oh, yes!" Wheatley's face gained a bit of color at her question. "It helps me feel better, really does. All that chocolate and caramel probably—"

"$4.50." Chell could ask later; there were people behind him.

"Of… of course." He silently paid the amount and walked away. She pulled her doodling co-worker away from his corner and got to work on drinks. When Wheatley's came up, she found him at a table closer to the counter, silently sipping while he watched Chell, who didn't notice him after she passed him the drink.

She was efficient, that was the first thing he noticed. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, and her ability to manage multiple things at once was to be admired. Wheatley wished he could do things like that – he could barely make a sandwich and talk on the phone at the same time. And here she was making three drinks at once, turning around right when a machine had stopped, grabbing things without looking to see where they were…

He was extremely impressed and got distracted watching her, and when he remembered about Molly's circumstances, would get lost for a few moments before taking a long sip of his frappe and attempted to blow bubbles through the straw.

Chell hadn't noticed his looks at all, but bratty co-worker did, pointing him out and asking if Chell wanted him out. She shook her head, thinking that it was just him watching for a moment when she wasn't too busy. When the shop stopped bustling, she came over to Wheatley's table near the counter and asked after Molly.

"She's doing… not much better. So that's why I'm here again today. The vet still says there's no improvement. But she wagged her tail at me today! It was an improvement if you ask me…"

The word faded into silence and they both paused, unable to think of what to say next.

Chell had to attend to other orders, but Wheatley remained at the table, looking again at all his pictures of Molly.

The week passed, and Chell eventually just had a chocolate caramel frappe waiting for him. He would always come in within five minutes of her finishing it, and tell her about Molly's status when there was a lull and show her more pictures. They both began to learn more about each other as well, finding out about work, schooling, social life… and grew closer.

Eventually, Wheatley came in and asked her out to dinner. It was clear that Molly was taking a heavier toll, with very little improvement. Wheatley refused to put her down, still having hope.

"I'm just…" He looked down at his chicken nuggets, trying to not cry. "I'm just giving her one more week."

Chell wasn't sure what to say at this point. She had run out of consoling words and kind musings, and it only made the dinner awkward as they both could only hope for Molly's recovery.

The next outing was Wheatley asking if she would like to come after her shift and see Molly. He hadn't been the couple days since going out to dinner, and they arrived at the vet's with Wheatley leaning on her shoulder trying not to cry.

The door opened and the secretary seemed surprised. "Oh! We were just about to call you, Molly—"

The bark came from the back, and a skitter of feet was heard as they barked again. Wheatley burst into tears of joy and ran past the secretary, Chell quickly following to see him standing next to the vet, a small adorable dog kissing his face rapidly while he said her name over and over. She allowed herself to smile and then to be kissed by the dog ("I really think she likes you, Chell") and talking about how she would need to be kept another few days, but her recovery had been miraculous.

Wheatley went hope completely overjoyed and walked Chell to her apartment, still giddy from seeing his puppy.

"I'm just… so happy! She's better and I had been fearing the worst, and I really wasn't hoping it would ever ever come to that. Man alive, I just horrified about her well-being and that I'd done something bad as a pet owner."

Chell shook her head. "You could never do anything wrong. You care about Molly too much."

"…But thank you for being there for me." His voice was softer, more gentle.

Chell turned her head to look at Wheatley, and she finally saw what her co-worker must have meant that day when she pointed out how he looked at her.

His eyes weren't exactly glazed over, but they were shining, and his cheeks got a little red, and—

Suddenly, she was being kissed! Her face was held and she saw him millimeters away, lips on hers and… it was over. Wheatley turned away, looking even more red than before.

"I'm so sorry, luv. I just... I…"

Chell gave a small laugh. "You could've asked me out first."

"That would've been too embarrassing."