Re: [jude & hannah: tea]
He wasn't entirely sure, Jude's own-self as to what it was he expected out of tea with the woman who had been the doll on the roundabout. He remembered the snatches of joy, crimson and gold-spackled with the light from the roundabout itself and set to music from the evening in the party, and didn't he wish for self-same adventure to color the day? But the coffee-shop was higgledy-piggledy tables and people crammed into corners and Jude had claimed his table in the corner where he could on occasion, glance up and speculate about the room. He didn't think Hannah fiction, not with a string of letters with at least one scented with a tea he'd never tried.
The something-strange in the town wasn't acquainted with Jude. He had Daniel, but that was the sum total of his knowledge of his own supernatural acquaintances and he wasn't down to visit Daniel for a couple of days. The faint stain of bruising had faded as it did rather rapidly, and it was hidden beneath the collar of his shirt. No, Jude was robustly mundane, solidly made albeit with skinny wrists and overlong curly hair.
He heard the clip of heels and the chair slide out in front of him and Jude looked up with curiosity written frankly in hazel eyes and slanted smile. Ready-welcome then, Sunday manners rolled out spick and span for whoever it was who had sat. She was very pretty, and an air of brisk business to her clothes as she sat down, heels under the table next to his own worn-in boots. Jude didn't have much familiarity with business at all, not the kind that was open, honest and gentlemanly.
He folded the slip of receipt into the book and dropped it onto the pile.
"Hello, Hannah. I could be very impatient and terrible company," he began in all seriousness with his eyes dancing all the while to give the lie away. "But I'm Jude, sunshine. Like the song, and I took terrible advantage and ordered you tea."