12 | ☕Anya vs Atlas The Coffee Showdown ☕ #3
She tilted the mug, taking a slow sip, savouring it as though she were judging a fine wine.
The café fell into a hush, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.
Anya watched her every movement, her heart racing with hope.
Kaia slowly set the cup down, her eyes lighting up with genuine delight. "Mmm. That's really good, Anya!" She grinned widely at her, as if Anya had already won. Anya's chest swelled with pride, a quiet sense of victory settling over her. Yes, yes, this was it—her moment to shine.
Her mind already drifted to the thought of Atlas walking out, defeated, when—
Kaia picked up Atlas's cup.
The mood in the café shifted instantly. The air went still, and every customer leaned in as if they were part of some grand, secret ritual.
Anya's pulse quickened, and she held her breath.
This was the moment. This was where everything would either go up in flames or she'd get the satisfaction of watching Atlas finally meet his match.
Kaia took a slow sip.
And then the unthinkable happened.
Kaia froze. Her eyes widened, and she slowly lowered the cup to the counter.
The café went completely quiet.
Anya's stomach sank. Her fingers clenched into fists as she stared at Kaia, waiting for her reaction. What did that mean? Was it bad?
Kaia, still holding the cup, glanced at Atlas, then back at the cup, and then again at Atlas. Her expression was unreadable, and Anya's anxiety grew with every passing second.
Anya's pulse pounded in her ears, the silence stretching on. What was happening? Please don't say what I think you're going to say.
Kaia finally opened her mouth, her voice low and almost reverential. "...Atlas just made the best coffee I've ever had in my life."
The words hung in the air, a sharp contrast to the triumphant moment Anya had expected. The shockwave hit Anya like a freight train, her stomach dropping to the floor. She felt the ground beneath her feet give way as the entire café went completely silent.
Anya's face fell. The weight of the words crashed over her, the hollow emptiness of defeat settling like a lead balloon in her chest. It wasn't just that she lost; it was that she lost to him—Atlas Valtieri.
Her eyes darted to him. His gaze was calm, his lips curled into that infuriating, smug little smirk. He was as unbothered as ever, like he'd just finished an afternoon stroll, not a coffee showdown. He took his cup with casual ease, as though the competition had been a mere trifle.
He signed without a hint of hesitation, his fingers moving in fluid motions. "Better luck next time."
Anya blinked, as if the words didn't even register. Better luck next time? Was that it? That was how he was going to end this—just casually dismissing her, after demolishing her in front of all these people? Her insides churned with frustration. How could he be so calm? So... confident?
And then, as if to rub salt into the wound, he turned away, walking toward the door with the same nonchalant stride, his back straight, shoulders relaxed, that damn smirk still playing at the corners of his lips. As if he hadn't just obliterated her.
The door swung closed behind him with a soft jingle.
Anya, unable to hold herself together any longer, slumped against the counter. She pressed her forehead against the cool surface, her whole body sagging with defeat. This was humiliating.
Kaia, meanwhile, was no help whatsoever.
She doubled over with laughter, clutching her stomach like it was the funniest thing she had ever seen.
"I gotta admit, that was a masterclass in coffee-making," she managed to gasp between fits of laughter.
"Maybe you should ask for some lessons, Anya. Get the Atlas Valtieri Special and all."
Anya groaned loudly, her face heating up as her humiliation grew tenfold. Why was this happening?
Kaia wiped away a fake tear, still chuckling. "I mean, I did warn you. The guy's a coffee god. You didn't stand a chance."
Anya could barely respond, her mind still reeling from the emotional blow.
How could she have been so confident, so sure of herself?
She thought she was doing well. She thought—she knew—she could hold her own.
But Atlas, with his effortless grace and quiet arrogance, had crushed her spirit like it was nothing.
The whole café buzzed with light chatter again, customers eagerly discussing the showdown, some still chuckling, others whispering about how impossibly good Atlas's coffee had been. But Anya couldn't hear them. She couldn't hear anything over the rush of her own frustration and embarrassment.
Still, as she stared after Atlas's retreating figure, something gnawed at her.
Something that made her straighten up just a little, wipe away the remnants of her shame, and take a deep breath.
Maybe she had been out-barista'd, but this wasn't over.
Next time? She'd show him. She wouldn't let herself be embarrassed again.
And Atlas Valtieri, the quiet coffee god, would not get away with it.
Anya smiled to herself, a little glimmer of determination igniting in her chest.