She’s a little disappointed he’s not hungry, though part of her is sure that Neon would be fine if she wanted to help herself to the soup. Still, her standards of politeness prevent her from eating in front of a guest (and he is her guest), so she keeps smiling.
“Oh, no problem! I like strong coffee myself.”
After making sure to set her sketchbooks on the table, she grabs two mugs and gets to work. With a deep inhale, she breathes the scent of freshly-ground espresso beans, relishing the bittersweet complexity. She loves the sound o espresso brewing, the hiss of milk steaming. She fixes their lattes, adding a dash of lavender syrup to hers, and adorns the foam with a heart-shaped flourish.
“Here you are!” She sets the mugs on the table with a hearty thunk before settling in across from Neon. He’s begun sketching, and she feels her heart flutter at the knowledge that she gets to watch an artist like him at work. Okay, he’d probably feel uncomfortable if she shared those sentiments, but she can keep her excitement to herself well enough.
She takes a sip of her latte, silently pleased with her work. Bragging isn’t something she often does, but she’s proud of her barista skills. Her eyes flutter closed, and she savors the way the creaminess of the milk and the floral sweetness of the lavender temper the rich bitterness of strong-brewed espresso.
“Thank you for meeting me,” she says between sips. “I hope the latte makes the trip worth it!”
After settling in and enjoying her drink, she holds up the pile of sketchbooks she left on her chair earlier and flashes him a sheepish smile. “Okay, quick disclaimer, by the way. This might get weird.”
You watch her work, and your subject changes, quickly sketching as she moves: the concentrated look as she pulls the espresso, the smile as she adds syrup to one mug, the gentle flourish of her arm as she adds the milk. It’s a dance of sorts, you think, and you’re a little mesmerized, pencil flicking across the page to try and capture each motion, each expression.
“Thank you so much,” you smile, putting the sketchbook aside, and pick up the mug. You’re impressed with the latte art, and feel a little bad ruining it, but it smells so good, and you’re starving. Maybe you should have just given in and asked for something to eat, but it’s too late now. You’d feel bad making her get up again after she’s gotten comfortable.
You take a sip and your eyes go a little wide. Sure, you can’t taste much, but this Latte is the best you’ve ever had. It tastes like…a deep burgundy. That’s the best description you can come up with, but it fits. And the milk makes it light and airy, despite the seemingly robust flavor.
“It most certainly does!” You exclaim, going for another sip, “I’m never going to be able to drink coffee anywhere else. You’ve ruined me.” You laugh, but it’s true.
You push your sketchbooks across the table, including the one you were just drawing in, a little embarrassed that she’ll find out you were drawing her.
“As you know, I like a little bit of weird,” you encourage and motion for her to hand the pile over.
She watches him, hands clasped, as he takes the first sip, and her shoulders relax as a smile spreads across her face at his reaction. “Well, I’m glad it didn’t disappoint,” she says with a shy giggle.
After taking another slow sip of her own latte, she exhales and pushes the pile towards him. “These aren’t in any particular order, so there might be some older stuff in the middle of the pile or something. Just in case the quality suddenly drops.” She grimaces. Her art isn’t that great now, but at least she’s improved from her earlier work.
The first page of the top book has some character sketches with messily-scrawled notes next to each one. “Oh! These are some designs I was working on for a game idea…” She trails off and blushes, burying her face in her cup once more. “Um, your turn!”
