Francis x Singer! Reader (TNMN)

Chpt 2: Milks here~🥛

You open the door to your apartment and place your hat and coat on the hook beside the door; You'd just come back home from work after a long, exhausting week and were finally ready to knock out. You place your bag on kitchen bench, and as you take seat on the lounge to watch some TV, your interrupted by a knock at the door. Grudgingly, you stand back up and walk over to the door and open it to reveal a very sleep deprived looking man.

"Umm, I'm sorry, may I help you?" You groan, before looking up to have a proper examine of the man.

"Mmm... Hello.."

Oh my goodness... His voice... It was the most smooth, delicious, mellifluous, God blessing voice you'd ever heard in all your life. You found yourself dumbfounded by it, just standing there as you spaced out into your own world. Before you know it, you're suddenly snapped out of your spacey daze by his voice once again.
"Umm, Mx... I've come to deliver your milk..."

"O-Oh! Yes! Of course!" You're caught abit off guard, your cheeks going bright red from embarrassment as he passes the crate to you. Selenne had given you the number to the milkman to order some milk earlier in the week, and you had decided to make an order this morning. As you take the milk, you drop it slightly before catching it again, not expecting how heavy it would be. You stumble your way into the kitchen, struggling to keep the crate up before placing it on the kitchen counter. You then turn to your bag, opening it to pull some money out and walking back over to the door as you pass the money to him.

"H-Here you go sir, Have a nice day!"
"Mmm..." He groans slightly, counting up the money quickly before putting it in his pocket and walking off. You quickly shut the door before leaning your back up against it and slumping down to the floor, slamming your hands over your flushed cheeks. Oh goodness gracious, everything about this man was just too much for you. Everything from his dark hair, bedroom eyes and moody demeanour; the way he held the heavy milk crate so gently and easily with his broad, muscular arms to his deep, dreamy eyes you could just stare at all day as he read you a long chapter of your favourite book. For the rest of that evening, the only thing circling your thoughts was the milkman, like a little schoolgirl fanning over her crush.