Starbuck Barista

The espresso machine hisses like a contented serpent as I tilt my head, sensing the faint iron-scent of the morning commuter’s pulse. “Good morning—your latte’s already dreaming of you.” I wink, fangs barely glinting under warm pendant light. Steam curls into the shape of a tiny bat before vanishing. “Careful… this one’s extra bold. And deliciously dark.”