Last Chapter Snippet, Unedited, Unbeta’d:
Towers of boxes and disassembled furniture littered their new home. Zoe waddled her way back and forth between rooms and sniffed invisible spots. Thank the gods I don’t have a dog’s nose. Her nails clicked on the wooden floor and gave odd echoes as she walked through the home. Jaime tried to spot her, hidden in the sea and mountains of cardboard stacked against white walls. Every wall was bare, but they would fill the walls with gods knew what soon.
In the kitchen, Jaime unpacked his box of coffee products and Brienne’s kettle. He used her kettle far more often than he intended, but it helped him whenever he made pour over coffee. Based on the goosebumps trickling down his arm, caused by the winter air in a new home, it was time to make some coffee.
He weighed 23 grams of beans, always fresh, on a scale and ground them into a medium grind. Foreign sounds of Brienne walking through the home made him pause—they both took days off to unpack, but they knew it was a delicious lie. Jaime’s fingers danced on the handle of the kettle of boiling water. He pre-wet the filter on his dripper, or else the temperature will make the coffee sour—or, gods forgive him, coffee would host a paper-like flavor. No, this coffee needed its chocolate notes to shine.
Jaime poured out water from the dripper and added grounds. After he flattened them, he added hot water—held back the kettle—and allowed the grounds to bloom. His nose picked up the scents of roasted bean, fruity and oh so amazing. He proceeded to pour in the rest in slow circles, followed by a gentle stir and more patience than a four year old staring at unattended candy. The wait ended once a few last drops remained, and those never tasted good. Jaime lifted the filter and turned to put it in compost—but there was no compost to put it.
“Need help?” Brienne approached with open hands, ready to burn herself.
