***

LUNA

"You know, I always wondered what your reaction would be when we saw each other again...but a punch in the face is not what I expected."

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," I cover my mouth in shock. "I am so sorry Milo! I didn't know it was you!"

"–Is this finally karma for that one time I opened one of your birthday presents when we were kids." He continues as I quickly move forward to check if he's okay. I pull away his hand that is covering his eye, to see the damage I've done, and wince when I see that his eye and the skin around it is an alarming shade of red.

Whilst I'm freaking out and examining his face, Milo grins and pokes his finger into the groove in my cheek. "Hey, it's gone deeper since the last time I saw you." He comments before letting out a surprised gasp.

"What?" My eyes grow wider. "Are you more hurt?–"

"Did it swap sides?"

"Did what swap sides?"

"Your dimple!"

"No, it's in the same place it's always been." I pause, going quiet. "Is memory loss a sign of concussion? Oh God. How hard did I punch you?"

"Quite hard," Milo frowns, a groove appearing between his eyebrows as he furrows them in confusion. "Why did you punch me Luna?"

"I didn't mean to. I thought you were a creep! I didn't know it was you!"

"Well how could you?" He replies with a shake of his head, "I've been screaming your name down the whole street, trying to catch up to you, but you couldn't hear because of those chunky things." He gestures to my headphones which are still blasting music into my ears. I quickly take them off and shove them into my bag. "Where did you learn to punch like that anyway?"

"You." I raise an eyebrow. "Remember your self defence lessons?"

"Right, I remember," a smile touches Milo's lips. A smile I haven't seen in person for over a year. "Well, I see I taught you well with the punch because it's still as powerful as ever."

Guilt floods through me. "I'm really sorry again. Your eye is really red. Can you see properly?"

Milo waves a hand dismissively. "It's kind of blurry but no biggie. I'm just annoyed that I can't see your gorgeous face very clearly."

I shake my head, unable to conceal the smile forming on my lips. "I forgot how big of a flirt you were." I say quietly.

He grins, nudging me with his elbow. "Only with you."

I laugh. Milo Kaneko probably came out of the womb charming all the nurses. He had always been all smooth confidence, twinkling smiles and witty remarks.

I had known Milo forever. He was my brother's best friend and one of the few people aside from my family that I was comfortable with. Though Milo did technically count as family.

My brother, Archer, and Milo had been attached to the hip since kindergarten so every childhood memory I had, pretty much included him.

Milo had pretended to be a toothfairy when I lost my first tooth, sneaking into my room during a nap and sticking his pocket money under my pillow. He taught me how to fight when a bunch of stupid kids would pick on me in elementary school. He always gave me half of his grilled cheese sandwiches whenever I was at his house and he would always convince my brother to let me hang out with them when I was alone.

I'll be honest; I always had a slight infatuation for Milo Kaneko.

So it was a shame that we lost communication once he moved to New York for college 6 years ago and after graduating decided to stay in the city. We texted on and off but not much. After he moved, there were only a handful of times that I had seen him, during a couple of Christmases and Thanksgivings but given that my brother would always steal his time, I had never been granted the chance to properly talk or catch up with him.

The past 6 years however, had been good on Milo. Although he had always been pretty cute, he had grown out of his awkward teen phase, growing into his long limbs and filling out his wiry stature. So now, at 24, standing at 6'1, with upturned eyes and dark hair that curled against his nape, Milo was absolutely gorgeous.

"The café I work at is just around the corner," I shift the subject, realising I have been staring at his face for an unusually long time. "I can get you an ice pack for your eye and also a free donut for compensating for the um...punch across the face."

"A free donut?" Milo perks up immediately.

I nod and he wraps an arm around my shoulder and points ahead of us. "Lead the way Montgomery."

As we're walking, conversation picks up again. "Why didn't you tell me you moved to New york?" Milo asks. "I heard it from your brother 2 days ago but you've been here 6 months."

"I didn't think you would be that interested in seeing me."

He turns to look down at me and presses a hand over his heart. "Wow, I am offended."

"We haven't really spoken much since you moved out here." I meet his gaze, justifying myself.

"True," Milo frowns, "but that doesn't mean I wouldn't want to see you."

I raise an eyebrow. "Also, it's been two days and you already tracked me down?"

"I tried to get your new number from Archer this morning," he explains, "but the idiot gave me Nova's by accident instead, so my call went to her." Milo shudders. "God, your sister is still scary, but I talked to her for a bit and she told me where you work and it's coincidentally right near where I live." He pauses and points to an apartment complex not too far away. "And I thought, why not surprise you? Then, I saw you across the street leaving the subway station and well," he gestures to his swollen eye, "you surprised me instead."

We stop in front of the cafè as Milo finishes speaking, the bell jingling as I open the door. I pause to turn and face him in the doorway. "You know what," I say, "I'll give you five free donuts instead of just the one."

"Not gonna object to that," Milo smiles, raising his hands in surrender as he follows me in. I watch as his eyes follow the interior of Solar, the cafè I have been working at for roughly 5 months now.

Solar is a little cafè which specialises in its various flavours of donuts. Its theme is, well, solar based, with white walls and a dark midnight blue ceiling with small stars speckled across. The signature coffee to-go cups are the same colour with intricate white outlines of the planets on them. The tables are a rustic dark oak and the overhead lights custom made to be different planets.

Solar is pretty popular and gets busy often, especially during the morning rush. It used to overwhelm me, having to talk to and serve so many different customers, but I've grown accustomed to the hecticness of it all. I have also grown to love the constant background noise of conversational murmurs, soft instrumental music, and the whirring of the coffee machines.

"Wait, this is really nice," Milo comments, turning to me, "how have I never been inside before?"

I'm about to respond when my co-worker Stella, returns from the back to the front counter and raises an eyebrow when she spots me, having arrived 40 minutes late with an injured 24 year old man behind me.

My attention shifts onto her immediately. "I'm so, so sorry I'm late Stella–" I begin to apologise profusely.

Stella shakes her head, cutting me off, "It's alright Luna, don't worry about it, it's surprisingly been quiet this morning," she gestures to the unusually empty cafè, "but please don't make it a habit."

I nod. "I promise I won't."

Stella then slides her gaze onto Milo and raises an eyebrow, gesturing to him behind me. "Now who's this?"

"Milo," I reply, "he's a friend from back home. Milo, this is Stella."

"Hi," she smiles warmly, "what happened to your eye?"

"Ah," Milo presses a finger to the tender skin before pointing to me. "She punched me."

Stella blinks. "Luna...punched you?"

Her confusion is understandable given that I refuse to even kill spiders let alone hit someone.

"Yeah," Milo nods slowly. "It was an accident."

Still baffled, Stella turns to me. "How do you punch someone on accident?"

I smile sheepishly, "I'll explain afterwards."

"Yeah, you better," she responds, eyes widened into an 'I can't believe this' face. "Want me to get an ice pack for him?"

"Yes please."

As she heads towards the kitchen, I move behind the counter, pulling my apron on and washing my hands.

"While she gets that for you," I say to Milo once I'm finished getting ready, "which donut do you want?"

Milo shuffles over to the counter, pressing his palms against the clear glass case showcasing the array of fresh donuts, like how the children do when they come to the store. "That one."

My eyes move to the one he's pointed at. "Really?" I say surprised, "a simple cinnamon and sugar?"

Milo shrugs, "I like it simple."

"Alright then," I pop five into a bag for him and handed it over. "Here you go."

I watch as Milo pulls out $10 from his back pocket and go to stop him. "Milo, it's on the house, remember?"

"Yeah I know," he pushes the note into the tip jar instead of sliding it across the counter, "I'm just tipping you."

I barely have the chance to protest before Milo turns around and begins to walk away. I gape at retreating back as he takes a seat in the corner of the cafè near the window overlooking the street and tucks into his donuts. He catches my eye a second later and throws me a thumbs up, dusting cinnamon sugar from his lips and mouthing 'best donuts ever'.

I smile in return just as Stella returns from the back and hands Milo the ice pack which he presses against his eye.

The bell on the door rings, drawing my attention away from Milo as a customer walks in. This seems to trigger a delayed morning rush and as the next half-hour passes, more customers begin to trickle into the cafè, the atmosphere getting busier by the second. Yet, although I am preoccupied with serving the crowd, I find that my eyes can't stop drifting to the corner of the store where Milo is sitting.

My gaze still follows him when he finally finishes the donuts and crumples up the bag, chucking it into the trash and then when he returns to his seat and pulls out a laptop and a book from his bag.

My eyes continue to halt over him across the next 30 minutes when he's busy flicking through the novel or typing away on his keyboard.

At the one hour mark, I force myself to stop staring after the fourth time locking eyes with Milo, realising I'm being the biggest creep ever. And either Milo has been ignoring my constant staring or is simply naive to it, but I'm grateful regardless that he doesn't mention my stalkerish behaviour when he approaches the counter a few minutes later to order a latte.

"Sure," I reply, turning back to the coffee machine and grabbing a cup before beginning to make his drink.

I feel Milo's gaze on the back of my neck as I go through the motions of making the latte.

"So long have you been working here?" He asks after a beat of silence.

"5 months." I reply, carefully pouring foam.

"5 months?" He repeats, surprised. "If I knew, I would've come here everyday instead of going to Little Coffee house down the street."

"Don't say that name around here." I whisper teasingly, looking around as if I'm scared someone heard us. "That's our rival cafè."

"Is that so?" He quirks an eyebrow, dropping his voice to meet my hushed whisper. "Well I regret ever spending a cent in that shop."

I laugh before sliding the latte towards him. Before taking a sip of his steaming drink, Milo takes a look down into the cup. "Woah, is that a bear?"

I beam pridefully. "Yep. I've been practising my latte art."

Milo looks back up to meet my gaze. "I feel guilty that I'm gonna be drinking its little face."

"You won't be once you try the actual drink." I gesture for him to take a sip. "Our latte's are to die for."

Milo obliges and I watch his expression shift into pleased surprise once he takes a sip. "That is fucking incredible." He exclaims, taking another eager sip.

He finishes the drink before he even gets a chance to return to his seat.

"Want another?" I ask as he passes back his empty cup.

Milo nods enthusiastically. "Yes."

***

4 hours later, Milo is still here, immersed in whatever he is typing away on his laptop. I approach him once I'm on my break but he's in such a mode of concentration that he doesn't notice me as I stand there beside him. After a couple minutes, I realise his concentration isn't going to break and I tap my knuckles against the table.

His eyes jump to mine surprisedly and a smile immediately pulls at his lips. "Hi, angel." He grins.

I am about to reply with a hello of my own when I pause and raise an eyebrow. "Angel?" I repeat, "really, you're still gonna use that old nickname?"

Milo's grin widens. "Yep."

I shake my head and stifle a laugh. One Halloween, when I was 9 and Milo was 11, I dressed up as an Angel. My sister Nova had been at a highschool halloween party that night so my mom had forced Milo, Archer and their other friend Justin to take me trick or treating in our neighbourhood. But before we even got to reach the first house, I fell into a puddle and stained my entire costume.

I was too upset that my costume was ruined to continue trick or treating so Milo decided to take me home and stayed watching halloween movies with me all evening whilst my brother and Justin made their rounds. From that night onwards, as a way of teasing me, Milo called me Angel and the nickname had stuck.

"You looked so concentrated," I tell him, changing the subject, "what were you writing?"

Milo smiles. "My latest book."

"No way," I take out a chair and sit down, thoroughly impressed. "I heard from Archer that you were a writer. What do you write?"

"Mainly fiction."

"What genre?"

Milo doesn't reply and instead simply blushes.

"What?" I smile, curious now.

After a pause, Milo responds. "Well, I've written books in various genres. I've written mystery, thriller, crime and even a children's book," he lists, "but my most popular genre...is romance."

I raise an eyebrow. "Any titles I'd know about?"

"Probably not," Milo shakes his head, still looking slightly embarrassed, "you're not a reader. I remember you falling asleep during your reading assignments in highschool."

"Still," I shrug, "my mom's a reader, she could have your book on her shelf."

Milo looks alarmed. "I hope not."

"Okay, now I'm really curious. You have got to tell me."

After a beat of hesitation, Milo lets out a sigh. "Are you on break?" He asks.

I nod. "20 minutes."

"Okay," he shuts his laptop and begins putting his things back into his bag. "Follow me."

"Where are we going?"

He swings his backpack over his shoulder and extends out a hand to help me get up. "To a bookstore."

–

AUTHORS NOTE:

This story is lowkey giving 'What You Caused' but in a different font. Can you tell I really like the childhood friends to strangers to lovers trope? (I promise this story will be different though LOL)

P.S. I know that note at the top looks like a 7 year old wrote it but I had to write the message with my finger on the notes app, okay? :,(

Lots of love always – Mai ♡