waraiigoe

The ring of the doorbell sounded throughout a little coffee shop. Meekly, a young man with tousled hair of a soft chestnut shade stepped in. One hand held the strap of a faded, bulging satchel, and the other was hidden away in a pants pocket. Outside, small dainty snowflakes drifted, and the sky watched on as people down below burrowed into their furs and coats. Taking a quick look around the quaint coffee shop, the brunet made his way towards the cashier. Behind it stood a tired looking employee. Gray streaks ran through their hair, despite the fact the rest of their features giving away their young age. “What can I get for you toda