If we were on a coffee date, it wouldn’t be a quick grab-and-go. It’d be one of those long, comfy hangs where the drinks go cold and we barely notice because the conversation’s that good. Wanna come with me for a sec?
You’d ask what I’m drinking.
It’s iced. Always iced. Doesn’t matter if it’s January and I’m in a sweater the size of a small car—iced is the vibe. Probably oat milk. Maybe a little vanilla. Definitely too much foam.
I’d ask what you’ve been listening to lately.
I love hearing people’s current obsessions. Then I’d tell you mine: sad girl indie pop, one playlist for every flavor of breakdown. Bonus points if it sounds like it was recorded in a haunted greenhouse.
I’d tell you what my cat’s been up to.
He’s dramatic, clingy, and somehow thinks he’s the main character. Honestly? He is. He knocked over my ring light again. I forgave him immediately.
I’d laugh too loud.
Probably at something small. A silly story. A weird noise. I always laugh harder when I feel safe. And if I feel safe around you? You’ll know. You’ll hear it in the way I let my guard down.
We’d spiral into dream talk.
What we’d do if money wasn’t a thing. The little things we want—like a window seat, or a weekend offline, or just someone who gets us. I love dreaming out loud with someone.
And I’d probably be plotting our next date already.
Because one coffee with someone like you? Never enough.
So… what would you order? And more importantly, what would we talk about first?