Jᴏɴɢɪɴ & Tᴀᴏ ♞ Bʟᴀᴄᴋ Gᴏʟᴅ
There were not many matters which could coax the tall man into a venture into the city the way coffee could. An acquired taste by most, but not for him; he could remember the first time he tasted coffee. The rich taste on his tongue, bitter... tongue-curling, shudder-inducing, the man next to him had claimed, but Zitao had inhaled the aroma, felt the warmth of it like a bittersweet embrace. The effective ways in which it made his mind more alert and awake were not to be shunned, either. It had saved him from dropping his head in exhaustion over his plans more than once.
There was a coffee machine in the carefully finished kitchen of his secluded home, and the University closest to his living had a cafeteria whose coffee offered a mild change, but it was not exciting, and he was no barista. The city thus became his destination for visits; if he was in a hurry and felt not like scouting new cafés to try out, Starbucks easily persuaded him to venture within the doors. This day was not such a day, however, and instead Zitao found himself within a smaller café he had found a few months ago.
With a slice of cake and a double espresso ordered, he had made his seat by a table overlooking the café---a tactical advantage he was used to trying to achieve by habit, but also because it unnerved him, leaving his back to people he did not know. Little would he have thought that today, the only person he would recognise would not only be that of the waitress (pretty girl, mellow voice; she easily blended in and he appreciated that). It would be a man. A young man he had not seen for a good couple of years and, a man that perhaps most people would not remember. But Zitao, he did remember.
Zitao remembered a lot of things. It was in his nature to observe, and what was not in his nature were things he had been taught. That was the way of life. You live and you learn. He intended to learn a lot.