Cuaditch Daily News was owed an article and Rolf, even after the excitement of the festival in the Park, was owed his deadline. As such, he held a curled scroll beneath his hands and meant to drop into the office before returning home. But the sun shone too brightly and the air was too gentle. He decided to walk.
And part of the way to the office, he discovered that he could use some iced coffee. It would help any latent hangover, anyway. So he found himself in line, ready to order (and maybe order a cookie, too).
Emilia was working a later shift today, planning to be in the kitchen for the evening rush and oversee tonight’s special personally as she often did. The notion of shifts was really a misnomer, anyway, as she has a tendency to come and go throughout the day and spent much more than the typical 40 hours at the bistro. She’d only been running it for about a year now, after all, and she knew hard work was needed to make and keep her venture successful.
Stopping for a coffee on her way, she found herself in line with Rolf, who she primarily knew at Otto’s brother, but he was someone she was fond of by his own right, too. She gave him a warm smile in greeting.
“Iced coffee, extra sugar,” he requested. Then, he nodded his thanks and moved aside in line, only to catch the eyes of Emilia. He returned her smile and nodded toward the hard working barista. “Put her order on my tab, won’t you?”
“It’s been a little while since I’ve seen you,” was meant to be funny. He, of course, had only seen her last night.
Emilia started to object before realizing it wouldn’t do her any good. She could be stubborn, but she knew how to pick her battles and she knew Rolf well enough to know this would be an argument she couldn’t win, so she sighed and ordered a green tea latte.
“An absolute age,” she agreed solemnly, happy to carry on with the joke. “I think we’ll just have to sit and catch up, if you have a moment.”
“I absolutely have a moment … maybe two?” he said, wandering over to a table by the window with their orders. He placed hers on the table before the chair opposite him then held the chair out for her.
“Sitting will be good. Honestly, I’m a bit sore.”
“Too much fun?” she teased as she settled into the chair opposite his. Rolf was someone she’d gotten to now well during the time she and Otto had dated and she almost thought of him as another brother. He was someone she felt comfortable around and the teasing came naturally.
“Maybe you just need a bit more practice,” she added, picking up her steaming cup and blowing over it softly to speed the cooling a bit.
He laughed and leaned his chin on the bridge of his knuckles. “You’re not wrong and you’re not the first person to suggest I’m missing the ‘fun’ gene. Or … are you talking about dancing? Because while I can emulate the mating pattern of a chimaera, I certainly don’t do the Macarena.”
“Maybe both,” she suggested with a grin. She paused to take a sip of her latte. “I’ve heard that practice makes perfect, could apply across the board.” She was half-teasing, but she did think that getting out more could make it easier or maybe more comfortable. Then again, she didn’t see anything wrong with enjoying the quiet side of life.
“I don’t think we Scamanders have the market cornered on fun and quiet at the same time. The truth is, I find the mating pattern of a chimaera to be really fun. Sometimes even as fun as dancing.” He reflected her grin, tilting his head gently to the side.
Emilia laughed at that. “You might be hard-pressed to find anyone who would agree with that sentiment,” she suggested with eyes sparkling as she took another sip of her drink. She loved animals, but not in the same way Rolf did, she thought. She did have her own passions, though. Somehow, she didn't think that everyone would find an evening experimenting with a new recipe nearly as fun as she did.