Re: coffee: sam & neil
There was a low bar for good these days. For him, it meant not drunk or close to collapsing from exhaustion. For her, it meant clear eyes and no new marks on her arms. But those things were better than nothing, better than the way things had been in the past. There was more time between his last fall off the wagon than hers, Neil knew that, but here and now he was glad she looked better. Sometimes he wished things had turned out differently, but that was six years behind him now. Wistfulness, nothing more.
He smiled when she grinned, and his gaze turned curious as it dropped to the notebook, attempting to discern what she'd been sketching upside-down. When the waitress came by he just ordered a coffee, black, not terribly interesting or exciting but he was nothing if not a creature of habit. Some things hadn't changed. He took the pencil with raised eyebrows, because he honestly couldn't draw to save his life. Literally, if someone had a gun to his head and told him to sketch a decent portrait, his odds of making it out alive were slim based on his artistic ability. But no one had a gun to his head now; there was no pressure. He shook his head, amused, and slid the notebook a little closer.
"Awk? You sound like Lin." Which wasn't a bad thing. He doodled absently, simple things like cats, and looked up to meet his gaze. "It's been a while since we've seen each other like this. Normal circumstances, I mean." He tipped his head to the side. "It's good to see you without some crisis hanging over our heads."