"Vienna?" I questioned. "I've never heard of this place."

"I'm not surprised," Forrest said. "Most people don't know about it, which is too bad for them, I guess. Now, come on." He got out of the car and I did the same, mulling over what he told me.

On the surface, Vienna didn't seem to be anything special. Merely structured with bricks, it appeared mundane and bare. Royal-blue, velvety curtains were hanging in the wide windows, obstructing outsiders from the scene within. On the glass doors, there was a simple Open sign. The overall structure was pretty large.

Like he could sense how skeptical I was, Forrest asked, "Are you coming?"

"Do I have a choice?" I muttered and then monotonously added, "Can't you see how excited I am?"

We made our way to the entrance and Forrest pulled it open for me. A coffee-fused gust fluttered against my face and I was actually stunned with the sight that greeted me.

"Oh," I murmured. It was - much to my surprise - fairly lovely. Beyond that, actually. "Wow."

A quiet, placid aura lingered in the warm air. I wasn't surprised to see that we were the only customers; the place must have just opened.

The first thing that intrigued me were the lights. Several fairy lights dangling, they twinkled in such a mesmerizing manner that I was left feeling strangely enchanted. With the ceiling painted burgundy, they effortlessly enhanced the room.

On the walls was faded, floral wallpaper with bursts of chalky jasmines, scarlet poppies and navy irises. The flooring seemed to be made of mahogany.

Scattered throughout the room were wooden, rounded tables with grey cushioned chairs. Off to one side was a large standing chalkboard. There was a quotation on it - in swirly, neat print.

"The two most important days in your life is the day you were born and the day you find out why." - Mark Twain

It faintly reminded me of the things that Forrest told me earlier. Undeniably, it was a brilliant quote.

On the other side of the café was a grey sofa with a rack of magazines and newspapers. And finally, in the center, it was the coffee bar with an employee, whose face lighted up the second he noticed our presence.

"Forrest! Hey!" he exclaimed wholeheartedly. "You're early today. And oh! Who is this?" The unfamiliar person, who appeared to be somewhere in his late twenties, exited the counter and strolled over to us. "And why . . . are you two drenched?"

Once he got closer, I was able to take a better look at him. With a tall and thin frame, untamed, jet-black curls, and almond-shaped eyes that corresponded, he managed to come off as endearing in his own way. His lips showed off a great, inviting grin and I - all of a sudden - felt terribly awkward. Mentally, I made myself get ready to walk back out. Who just showed up to a café dripping wet? I wouldn't be too surprised if he asked us to leave.

"Hey Perry," I heard Forrest say, "this is June." I offered a small, forced smile, but I was sure that I looked like I was cringing. "And I hope you don't mind . . . it's, ah, a long story."

"Oh, all right, it's cool. I needed to mop anyways," Perry joked, but all that did was make me feel even more uneasy. I slightly turned to Forrest, wondering if he could see what I was thinking. Have you completely lost your senses? But his lips merely curved in response. Perry nodded and gestured for us to come in some more. "Go right ahead and I'll be right back."

With that being said, he turned around and speed-walked away. I watched as he disappeared, entering a door that displayed Employees Only.

I was about to turn and tell Forrest that we shouldn't have been there, that we should have at least absolutely dried off first, but without warning, I felt his hand gently land on the lower part of my back, sending a jolt through me. All thoughts died on my tongue. "Let's go over there," he muttered, oblivious to how my heart instinctively picked up speed.

I pressed my lips together as he led me to a table. He finally settled on one and the both of us took a seat. Forrest cleared his throat and said, "Uh, pick whatever you want; it's on me."

"Oh, you don't have to," I stammered out, but that just made him raise a brow at me and it seemed like he was wondering whether I was truly serious or not.

"You really think I came all the way here just so you can watch me drink?" Forrest said, causing heat to flood my cheeks.

"Oh, fine," I answered, struggling to brush off the aggravating feeling of embarrassment. I took a long glance at the menu and although there were many appealing options - ranging from elaborate refreshments to tempting pastries - I decided to get the most inexpensive one. "I'll just get a hot chocolate."

"That's all? Just a hot chocolate?"

"Well, what's wrong with that?" I questioned, annoyed.

Forrest shrugged. "Nothing, but usually, people order more." People? Like who? Before I could think about it any further, he casually continued, saying, "My sister makes me get her, like, thirty-five cookies all the time." There was a twinge of fondness in his voice. I raised a brow in surprise. "And my mom always makes me get her pancakes - I don't blame her because they're actually, uh, really good . . ." As if he felt like he was babbling, he trailed off. Scratching the back of his head, he looked like he was the uncomfortable one now.

I gave a small, tight smile. "All right, whatever. You've convinced me. I'll have pancakes too then."

The corners of Forrest's lips moved upwards again. Without saying anything to me, he straightened and trained his eyes on something behind me. "Hey Perry!" he called out. "I want the usual plus a hot chocolate," he paused, his gaze flickering to me, "and pancakes." The last words of his order were strangely laced with amusement.

"You got it!" Perry replied and started preparing our orders.

"Thank you," I said after a moment and started gnawing on my lip, contemplating on what else to say. Thankfully, I thought of something. "So . . . you must come here a lot, huh?"

Forrest nodded again. "Yeah, this is probably my favorite place to hang out at. It's a good thing Perry isn't sick of seeing my face yet," he blew out a breath of laughter, "I come here a lot more than I should."

"I see why. It's pretty impressive," I admitted, "And I've only known Perry for less than ten minutes, but he seems cool."

"Yeah, he is," Forrest confirmed, "This is his family's business. He took over about three years ago, and you can tell that he loves being here. And you want to know something amazing?" He didn't give me a chance to actually answer. "This place is named after his grandmother."

"Aw," I stared at him, wonderstruck. "That's sweet."

"I know," he agreed, "According to Perry, his grandfather was one of those romantics."

I blinked at what I heard. "Was?"

Forrest suddenly looked apologetic. "He passed away four years ago," he reluctantly explained.

My chest tightened. Oh.

Before I could comment on it, Perry appeared, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and a stack of pancakes. He merrily exclaimed, "Here you go!" Although I felt a bit weighed down with the news of his grandfather, I flashed a grateful beam at him. He then placed our orders on the table and with an earnest expression, he said, "Hope you both enjoy."

"Thanks so much," I murmured, eyeing my hot chocolate and the pancakes. The yellow mug, which had you are extraordinary designed on it in pretty lettering, contained rich brown milk, and there were three thick, golden pancakes flecked with powdered sugar carefully arranged on the plate. A small glass cup of maple syrup accompanied it along with slices of banana. The warm, buttery scent greeted my nose, triggering my stomach to cry out. I was met with the harsh reminder that I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.

When you believe you're going to be facing death the next day, you aren't really able to swallow down much of anything. I had attempted to eat a few things, but everything tasted wrong. I wasn't even aware of just how starved I was until now.

As I tried to ignore the hollow feeling inside of me, Forrest thanked Perry too, adding that we appreciated it.

I took a look at his pick. Unexpectedly, it was merely plain coffee, black as midnight. I guessed he didn't mind it being bitter.

"Of course, of course," Perry replied, waving it off, "Call me if you need anything else, yeah?" I thought he was finished, but then he said, "Oh, and June?"

My eyes met his, slightly widening. "Yes?"

The smile on his lips broadened, making me feel at ease. "Welcome to Vienna."