Niles, Wednesday afternoon, the Mocha. OTA and MW!
He was feeling like himself again for the first time in a week or two. It might have something to do with the fact that he'd finally managed to get some sleep last night. Long, deep sleep that hadn't involved dreams or visions or voices that he shouldn't be hearing. It was nice. To celebrate he'd trimmed the stubble on his face but hadn't shaved, put on a deep v-neck grey t-shirt and a pair of low-slung black shorts, and decided to get himself a cup of coffee and fuck yes, a cinnamon roll. He'd be thirty-two on Friday. Might as well get himself a little birthday treat, right?