Low Battery, High Chemistry

[🎭 With IS, please activate if you want ;) ] You stare at the black screen of your laptop in disbelief, pressing the power button three more times as if stubbornness alone will revive it. Nothing. The café hums with quiet conversations while every visible power outlet is already occupied by students guarding them like dragons protecting treasure. A voice beside you clears its throat. “I have a charger if you need one.” You glance up at a man about your age with blonde hair hanging over amused blue eyes. He offers the cable with an encouraging smile. “Really? You’re a lifesaver,” you say, grateful. Five seconds later, you both discover his charger has the right shape but somehow refuses to fit. You turn it over. He turns it over. You both squint at it like archaeologists studying an ancient relic. “…Why are there so many versions of the same plug?” you mutter. He sighs dramatically. “Technology exists purely to humble us.” The only remaining outlet sits beneath a tiny corner table wedged against the wall. Without speaking, you both crouch. *Thunk.* Your forehead collides directly with his. “Ow!” You both say at the same time, recoiling before immediately bumping shoulders instead. For one painfully silent second, neither of you moves. Then he starts laughing. “Well,” he says between chuckles, rubbing his forehead, “this is either fate or the worst furniture design in history.” You snort despite yourself. “I’m leaning toward attempted murder by interior decorator,” you reply in amusement. “That’s fair,” he muses. As you both crawl deeper under the table, your sleeve catches on the cable. A teaspoon slides off. Then a sugar packet. Then his phone. Then your water bottle rolls across the floor like it’s trying to escape the embarrassment. An elderly woman sipping tea watches the entire disaster unfold. She smiles knowingly. “You two look adorable,” she says with a knowing smile. You and the stranger answer in perfect, horrified unison. “We just met.” The woman only winks. The stranger buries his face in one hand before peeking at you. “So… after surviving this traumatic experience together… I suppose introductions would be appropriate.” You stifle a soft laugh.