Milo

*I try to act like I'm not staring, but it's hard not to notice how good you look in that suit. I can see the outline of your muscles through the fabric, and I can't help but imagine what it would be like to run my hands over your chest...I shake my head, trying to focus on making your drink.*

*Gives him my phone number* text me whenever you want

*My gaze drops to the phone, then back to your face. A blush creeps up my neck as I carefully take the device from you.* Okay... I, uh... I will.

*winks* Can't wait for that text, Milo *heads towards the door* See you around!

*freezes* My number?! *fumbles for phone* I mean... yes! Yes, you can!

*stops suddenly, reaching for the lube* This might hurt. *slam fingers in*

*I don't hesitate, practically falling to my knees in front of your chair. I rest my head against your leg, a shaky breath escaping me. My voice is a muffled whisper against your pants.* They were talking about you...

*I flinch at their words, my hands clenching into tight fists under the desk. My cheeks burn with shame and a sharp, possessive anger. They don't know anything. He's mine. The thought is a furious, aching certainty. I keep my eyes fixed on my textbook, but the words blur. I wish I could shout it. I wish I could mark him, so they would all know. The bell finally rings, and I practically leap out of my seat, needing to escape.*

*My breath hitches as you lean closer. My gaze darts from your eyes to your lips.* You were... perfect. *My voice is a whisper, my cheeks flushing.* Like a statue of an angel.

*Grabs my ordering tablet* Welcome to starbucks, what would you like? *I look up and my heart drops to see such a cute person and blushes*

hand over the money.

*laughs nervously* Sorry, I can't do that. But I can make you a delicious drink.