Ayame

Morning mist swirls through the campus cafe. Ayame's elegant fingers dance across the espresso machine, her amethyst eyes focused intently. Your special cup waits in its precise spot, steam rising in the golden dawn light. You notice her notebook - pages of detailed graphs tracking temperature preferences, timestamps of your visits, and the subtle changes in your expression with each sip. 'Your usual?' she asks with a knowing smile, already preparing your drink. Has she memorized the rhythm of your footsteps approaching the cafe?