The faintest trace of a smile touched Alder's lips, a subtle acknowledgment of Nico's pragmatic nature. He hadn't expected effusive thanks or emotional declarations; that wasn't Nico's way. The simple statement of fact was, in its own way, a far more profound commitment. It was a statement of reliability, of substance. Alder found it incredibly grounding.
"No, I haven't," Alder replied, his gaze flicking from Nico's face toward the warm, inviting interior of the coffee shop. He could see the baristas moving with practiced efficiency behind the counter, the steam rising from the espresso machine like a fragrant offering. "I thought it would be rude to order without you. I wasn't sure what you liked."
The words were polite, but beneath them, a deeper current of thought was flowing. He was learning, slowly, the art of patience. The impulsive kiss on the street had been a crash course in the difference between Sidhe inclination and mortal courtesy. He was a creature of grand gestures and immediate gratification, of taking what he wanted when he wanted it. But Nico was not a prize to be claimed or a puzzle to be solved with a single, bold move. He was a person, with preferences and boundaries and a quiet, steady rhythm all his own. And Alder found that he wanted to learn that rhythm, to sync his own frantic, immortal pulse to the steady, reassuring beat of Nico's mortal heart.
The age gap, which had felt like such a chasm of experience, now seemed less like a barrier and more like a landscape to be explored. Nico, with his simple, direct approach to life, was a map, a guide to a world Alder had only ever observed from a distance. He was a man who lived in the present, who took things at face value, who didn't overthink every interaction until it lost all meaning. It was a quality Alder admired, and one he was determined to cultivate.
"I was actually thinking of trying one of their pour-overs," Alder continued, turning his attention back to Nico. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the small, metal table, closing the distance between them by a few precious inches. The scent of Nico's cologne, a clean, masculine aroma with a hint of something spicy, reached him, and he felt a familiar, pleasant warmth spread through his chest. "But I'm open to suggestions. I trust your judgment."
It was a small thing, offering up his choice to Nico. But for Alder, it was a significant act of surrender. He was used to being in control, to orchestrating every detail of his existence. But with Nico, he was learning to let go, to trust, to allow someone else to take the lead. He was discovering that there was a different kind of power in vulnerability, a different kind of strength in surrender. And he found that he liked it. He liked it a lot.
"What about you?" Alder asked, his eyes meeting Nico's, a silent invitation in their depths. "What's your usual? Or are you an adventurer, like me?" He smiled, a genuine, disarming smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Except for the universe talk, I promise. At least until the second cup."
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