OTP Prompt: Imagine your OTP as the ol' standby trope: strangers at a coffee shop. Person A orders a sugary, flavored drink and Person B orders a black coffee. They pick up the wrong drinks and are absolutely disgusted.

Begin:

It started with an accident, as all things tend to do. The barista, whose name Mai surprisingly remembered, Bako, had gotten their orders mixed up. Horribly mixed up.

Mai had been ecstatic to recieve her coffee having just finished grading finals and was trying to retain her consiousness with her coffee.

All around her Mai could smell the beautiful and rich aroma of coffee being ground, and the pleasant buzz of chatter with different languages thrown in. Mai allowed herself to go limp and relax her tense body, she was finally, finally done with Uni finals.

A sigh escaped her body and she eagerly sipped her coffee.

Shock.

Utter horror.

Her world had been beautifully lit, swirled with hope, and now it was filled with darkness and nightmares that clung to her tongue like tar.

Mai had barely refrained from spitting her 'coffee' into some poor unsuspecting person's face.

Mai forced her body wracked with jitters, from that horrible tar that dared think it was coffee, and exhaustion, to move toward the barista who had messed up her order.

Grumbling under her breath for the eternity it took to reach the barista she decided once she got home she would waste her week watching Netflix and avoid the after finals partiers.

Mai didn't even get the chance to open her mouth.

"Excuse me, Bako. You gave me this horrible sugar monstrosity as coffee. I clearly remember saying black only. How in the world do you think my name is Mai? Do you know how long I was waiting for this coffee?"

Mai felt shivers run down her spine at the sharp voice and peircing gaze the barista had to face. Then she felt irritation, "Well I wouldn't think you got the worst stick ! I'm the one that had to drink this horrible tar you call coffee!"

The man turned around and looked straight at her, "Says the person who had no coffee whatsoever in their sugary creamer. Also, the correct expression would be to get the short end of the stick."

Mai's eye twitched,"It doesnt matter. Please, just fix our orders. I don't have enough energy to argue."

The man looked at Mai,"I take it from your name, Mai, and the mangled idiom you're not from around here?"

Mai wanted to melt into the ground, she almost wished she'd just left with the coffee that needed to be dropped into Tartarus.

"So? What does it matter?" Mai growled.

"What language do you speak? From your physical appearance I would say-"

Mai hung her head, "Please stop talking. I just want my coffee. I just want to go home."

The man arched his eyebrows,"Well then, since you cannot seem to stand me talking so much I'll make this quick. Would you like to get coffee together next Tuesday?"

Mai gaped,"W-what?"

The man sighed," You. Me. Coffee next Tuesday."

"S-sir? Miss? Your correct orders are finished, I apologize for the mix up the drinks are free."

The man nodded and took his coffee and walked briskly toward the exit, as Mai reached for her coffee and realized..."Wait! I-I don't even know your name!"

The man smirked and before exiting looked over his shoulder toward Mai, "The name is Oilver Davis, I'm the new Parapsychology teacher, replacing at Cambridge. I look forward to teaching with you, my new aide."

Mai was very close to swaying on her feet, she was pretty sure her eyes were bugging out of her skull.

"Miss? Are you okay?" Bako asked.

Mai nodded like a bobble head, "Yeah...I'll just go now. Oilver Davis huh ? I guess next year will be interesting."

Sipping on her now correct order of coffee walking home, Mai smiled, now she really couldn't wait for next Tuesday to come around.