Desmond had actually gone to the coffee house, knowing that Beth would not be there, and that she was still asleep. Waiting until someone actually came into the store, Desmond managed to beat the morning rush, and soon had a cup of that steaming, wonderfully creamy confection in his hand. Just the smell of it inspired his heart to race a little with the excitement of tasting it again. Leaning down he took in a nice slow wiff of it again as he stepped out onto the street corner, and then took a slow, tasting sip of it, afraid that it might be a little too hot. He could feel it burn his tongue slightly, but other than that, it was wonderful. The perfect blend of sweet flavor with the tangy bite of coffee and other spices.
In a bittersweet way, it reminded him of Beth, of the fact that he had met her while having the drink for the first time, that it had been in a way hers. It hurt a little, to remember that, but at the same time, it was not an overpowering ache. He was, after all, doing what was best for her, even if she did not realize it right now. She might be confused by the abruptness of it, but Desmond had a hope that she would understand, that she would see the note, nod to herself, and accept the fact that she and he should remain apart. That what had happened a few nights ago was something that was dangerous, for both of them. That she herself ahd come dangerously close to being claimed in a different way by him, but one that would ultimately be no less of a violation of her.
The idea that he could bring himself to do such a thing to her turned his stomach a little, and nearly put him off of his drink altogether until he banished it from his thoughts. Instead, he focused on the morning, the air around him, the little squirrels that bounced in the treetops, watching him as if he might be some sort of foreign invader in their home, and they weren't sure if they should all gang up together and attack him or not. The birds, of course, were friendlier, little troubadours that sung out merrily to the world regardless of who was there, just wanting their songs to be heard, and perhaps a copper or two for their singing so that they could get a good meal to eat at the inn.
All of these things were wonderful, but he could not share them with Beth, and a part of that dimmed their beauty. Quietly, he thought on Raina as he walked as well. The girl was fetching, and far more open to the idea of advances, if he were to ever give them to her. Would it be so wrong to simply ignore where the heart had lead him, and instead focus on a more logical candidate for his affections? Unlike Beth, she did not seem to have an attachment to another, and she did not remind him of something that his heart had missed for so very long. But while Desmond had loved speaking with her, the spark, that first burst of light and energy that could ignite any tinder had not been there. With Beth, it had all but light up the day so brightly as to put the sun to shame.
Only Beth had not felt it. It was true, he supposed, that the ones that you wanted the most were often the ones that did not want you in return. But it was a harsh truth that he did not like to think on much. He wondered if, somewhere, Raina was thinking on him the way that he was thinking on Beth, aching, and wracking her brain for some way that he could change the outcome. He wondered if, with her belief, she wasn't cursing fate, cursing the heavens before her in order to try to change random chance, something that could simply not be altered through sheer force of belief alone. He did not like the idea that he might be hurting her, but it would have been a far worse crime to string her along with false promises or the hint at things that could never be.