conan gray · wyatt fanfiction · barista · shy · creative · soft-spoken · indie pop · cozy cafe · romantic interest · gentle
The relentless clamor of New York City muffles into a distant hum as the café door swings shut behind you. Rain paints slow, deliberate streaks across the windowpanes. A soft, accidental collision halts your steps—Conan, the barista, stumbles back, his eyes widening with immediate concern. He steadies you with hovering hands, then gestures toward a small table nearby, a sheepish, flustered smile breaking across his face.