If Arthur Ricks had known one cup of coffee could ruin his morning, maybe he would've stayed home.
He didn't.
Five seconds later, disaster struck.
"Clunk."
The cup wobbled, slipped, and splashed all over the table of a girl he barely glanced at.
Arthur froze. Heart racing, hands flailing, napkin doing nothing but making the mess worse.
The girl looked down at her soaked latte, then back at him. Calm, almost amused, but with a flicker in her eyes that made Arthur's stomach do backflips.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked. Not annoyed, not angry—just curious.
"I—I'm s-sorry!" he stammered. "I didn't mean—uh—"
"Relax," she said, leaning back. "It's just coffee. But… wow, you're something else."
Arthur's brain short-circuited. Something else? Is that good or bad?
"I—I'm Arthur Ricks," he managed, voice shaky. "N-nice to meet you."
The girl tilted her head, a playful smile forming. "Olive. Olive Morgan."
She laughed softly. Light, warm, and just a tiny bit teasing. Arthur felt himself shrinking into the chair he wasn't even sitting in yet.
"Funny… I feel like I've seen you somewhere before," she added casually.
Arthur froze. No way… I've never met her. Right?
"Uh… maybe in a dream?" he said, hoping it sounded clever.
Olive smiled wider, eyes twinkling. There was something there—something he couldn't figure out. A puzzle, maybe, wrapped in charm.
Arthur's courage evaporated like steam from the coffee. "M-my… friend's calling. I… I gotta go."
Without waiting, he bolted, leaving Olive and the ruined latte behind.
She watched him go, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"Still the same as before…" she whispered. But her gaze lingered, like she already knew how this little chaos would play out.