The cafe was like a keyhole, cozy, but still noticeable to the eye. The walls were dust mixed with ancient gold. The lights hung low and each emitted a whispering honey glow. College students slipped in and out like a needle closing a tear. They all needed their fix of frappuccinos and hibiscus iced tea. It was dead empty just me until they came. He was one of them and so was she. The door let out a faint ding that teased my ears when they entered. I stood behind the counter and observed out of boredom how his red Converse matched the burnt burgundy of the carpet. Her thick inky black rimmed glasses matched the porcelain mugs. He spoke with a crisp low voice hers was so quiet you could forget she had one. She had a unique squeak. He had a raspy tone. His ashy hair oddly complimented the midnight black with enchanting indigo that cascaded down her shoulders. It flowed perfectly like the holy Ganges River.  She had raven lace and kitten heels. He had boxy plaid and coarse tailored denim. One blueberry scone and a pumpkin spice latte extra cream. They settled in a seat next to the foggy window the looked out onto the brisk  Boston roads.. Amethyst purple seats with fraying threads hanging off each arm rest. He settled her drink on the dove gray marble table. Both avoided eye contact. It was as though they were trying not to stare directly into the blazing sun. He nipped at the blueberries in his crumbling scone. She kept her gaze downcast observing the white swirls of cream in her nut-brown coffee. After a war between comfort and awkwardness. Comfort won and alleviated the heavy tension Smooth compliments began to  roll off his tongue and a rose hue fell upon her snowy complexion. She left with a spring in her step and simple smile. He stayed behind for a few moments and grinned at himself.