Re: Coffee: Noah & Bea
Bea didn't startle. Repose was her kingdom as much as his, and she would have been shocked as anything if anyone had actually tried to hurt her there. The coffee shop was really just a background whir around her anyway, the barista some friend of a friend of a friend she could nod to as she put her order in for two pumpkin spice lattes (her small and his big); so when he put it entirely out of focus and came into macro, she only smiled colgate-big. "Hey, good lookin." She immediately dropped her arm, one thumb setting the auto-lock, darkening the screen in the same movement as she stuck it in her YSL leather bag. Her free hand came up and squished his wrist and thumb in a one-way hug, like they were stepping up for a prom photo they'd never taken. The line moved up behind her and she moved away from it, refusing to let go and dragging him along with her along the counter.
"You smell like boy and sports," she said, still grinning as she turned her chin sideways to get a look at his dimpled profile. Bea smelled like sweet French perfume: almond oil and Hermès oranges, and her car, the '12 silver Lexus appropriated from her mom in '15 that was parked out front, smelled the same, only with more latte from all the spills. She could have zipped out to her house again to meet him, but the prospect of seeing a friendly face versus her mom's was so much more cheerful. The emotions there were deep, bitter and complicated. Noah was an old friend Bea trusted; no strings. Nothing bitter there. "Practice, you said? What are you still playing without cheerleaders around to keep you going?"
She glanced behind the counter for the barista, but she wasn't ready yet, so she looked back up and Noah, rocking a little back and forth in his grasp in a dance without accompaniment. The hug from above made her feel feminine in the same way the leather skirt did, and when Bea felt feminine, she felt confident. Her mood rose still further, a rainbow soap bubble.