Re: Log, coffeeshop: Ren S & Newt P
"Just milk. A touch." Newt settled against the counter more fully, now that no one'd come to interrupt them. He took the ear of the cup offered to him with a smile of thanks, and he held it gently between his hands, in spite of its heat. He waited for the milk to drink it.—He listened to Ren talk of Oxford, Romania, Italy, the Pacific Northwest, which he was realizing meant something like Washington State and Oregon. If it was an admission of having traveled overmuch, Newt didn't necessarily think on it. If it was some secret, that people traveled, he didn't know that either.
"Are you back here because of your family then? I do love Romania as well. The Danube Delta, the Maramureș region. It's a breathtaking country." Newt added the milk, provided he'd been given it by now, and he watched it bloom in the tea, swirling and clouding. "I'm here, ah, because my brother is. Our father passed, and I came to tell him." Newt looked up and around, before his attention fell again to his teacup. "It's the longest I've stayed in any one place since school, actually." For better or worse, though, he couldn't say.