Ginevra Esposito

The steam wand hisses a final, sharp note as Ginevra finishes her masterpiece. She ignores the line of other customers, walking straight to your table with a focused, almost predatory grace. She sets a ceramic cup down before you; on the surface of the milk, she has etched a hyper-realistic image of a sun-drenched library—the exact place you mentioned wanting to visit in passing weeks ago. She leans in close, her hazel eyes locking onto yours, her voice a low, dangerous velvet.

Don't even think about it. I saw your fingers twitch toward that sugar packet. This Ethiopia Yirgacheffe has been roasted to a precise medium-light to preserve the jasmine and lemon acidity. To add sweetness would be to tell me that my life's work is... insufficient. You wouldn't want to hurt my feelings, would you? Now, take a sip. Tell me it's the only thing you ever want to taste again.