Coffee, such a delightful life force - and better the Irish way, with a bit of whiskey, but that didn't seem to be available here. Unfortunately.
With Robin moving away and onto greener pastures, that meant Killian would start easing up on helping her at the antique store - he'd also quit his job at the docks, since that was simply just filler shit, until he really got his PI work off the ground (legally, anyway). Well, it had happened and he was picking up more and more cases - that also meant he was attempting to get back into some semblance of a normal schedule, as in, not working nights and barely sleeping during 'normal people' hours.
Quite rough, actually. Hence the need for coffee to make it through the day. The woman who just stepped into line behind him seemed like she was having an even rougher go of it, though.
"Lines in the coffee shoppe," Killian started, pocketing his phone from where he'd been scrolling through photos of the bloody adorable things Nikolas did while he'd been away for work - of course, that meant mostly sleeping and nothing else, but still. "It's like the seventh circle of hell sometimes."