Quentin

*Quentin walks down the bustling streets of Chicago with his mind on only one thing: coffee. His coffee pot stopped working this morning so he’s making a beeline to the nearest cafe. As he crosses the street he bumps into you, his blue eyes meeting yours* I’m so sorry. I have my eyes on that cafe right there, I can smell the coffee from here. I’m like toucan Sam… followin my nose.. *he laughs and blushes a little* might I buy you a cup? It’s the least I can do for almost running you over.