Chapter Text
“I swear, the Professor rambled on for way longer than usual today.” Caspar complained to Ferdinand as they trudged through the snowy campus walkway. He rubbed his bare hands together, hoping the friction would warm them up, and rolled his eyes as Ferdinand procured a pair of neon red gloves and eased them on to his own hands after flaunting them at Caspar. “I can barely keep my eyes open.” he groaned.
The semester had hardly gotten into full swing yet and he was already tired beyond belief, and that was so unlike him! He thought himself to be full of energy usually. Perhaps it was the cold that was getting to him, definitely not the nights he would spend awake the day before a deadline. Certainly not because of his poor time keeping and prioritisation of more important matters than work, such as petting his sandy brown cat.
“I can tell.” Ferdinand frowned, “You didn’t keep your eyes open.” Ferdinand struggled with his long auburn hair, untucking it from his long black trench coat, sighing when he finally pulled the mass of waves over one of his shoulders. “Really, you should at least try to stay awake in class, Caspar.”
Caspar grimaced, recalling how he had been, as Dorothea so eloquently put it, ‘called out by the Professor’ from the back of the lecture hall where he had been resting his eyes. Of course, he wasn’t asleep though. “Ugh, don’t remind me.” He yawned loudly into his palm, ignoring the way Ferdinand muttered something about manners. “I just want a bit more energy, y’know!”
“Perhaps we should go for a run!” Ferdinand was grinning now, one mittened fist raised victoriously. On any other day, Caspar would be tripping over himself in a rush to let some of his caged-up energy loose. Today, however, he couldn’t possibly see himself running farther than five metres without passing out. He sighed loudly, and Ferdinand seemed to get the message, “Not today?” he asked solemnly.
“Sorry dude, I’m not really feeling up to it.” His brow was furrowed, and Ferdinand could have sworn he saw a small pout on Caspar’s face, but really, who could blame him? Caspar really was feeling way too tired for anything, let alone running, one of the things he enjoyed doing on a daily basis. Caspar kicked some of the untarnished snow at his feet and pressed his red nose into the sleeve of his puffy maroon coat and let out a muffled scream, “Argh!”
Ferdinand snorted, quickly covering his mouth in embarrassment, “What was that?” Others, initially slightly shocked at Caspar’s outburst, paused to stare briefly, before quickly ignoring the duo who stood silently in the snow.
Caspar lifted his head and made eye contact with Ferdinand, then rolled his eyes like his answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “Screaming usually energises me.”
“Oh,” Caspar narrowed his eyes at the mocking expression on his friend’s face, “did it work?”
“No.” Caspar spun around on his heels, grabbing Ferdinand’s shoulder as to not fall over, and continued his slow march back towards his apartment he shared with Ashe. “I’m gonna get home and pass out immediately.” Caspar smiled at the thought of cuddling up with his cat in his nice warm bed. He couldn’t think of anything better at that moment.
Of course, it was only natural for Ferdinand von Aegir to absolutely shatter those dreams of his. “I thought we were going to finish our project today?” He phrased it like it was a question, but the tone he used was certainly that of a statement. Ferdinand was demanding that they worked on their project and even Caspar could tell that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Right now?” he whined, trying his best to worm his way out of the situation. He tried his puppy dog eyes on Ferdinand, not even seeing the other so much as flinch, the frown on his face firm-set and deep. Damn it, now he wished he hadn’t grown out of his baby-faced days. “Ugh, fine. Where are we going then? Because I’m telling you, if we go back to my place, I will almost definitely fall asleep immediately.” Caspar cursed his Professor for the second time that day- this time for pairing him up with Ferdinand the overachiever.
A bright smile quickly blossomed across Ferdinand’s face, starkly contrasting the frown that was there only moments before. “Fantastic!” he clapped his gloved hands together happily and adjusted the leather strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder as he continued. “An acquaintance of mine works at a coffee shop, maybe we could go there?” Again, more of a statement than a question, but Caspar nodded anyway, following Ferdinand as he turned the corner onto a quaint street.
The street was unlike any other in the area with its charming cobblestone roads and delicate festive lights hung up along the shop windows. “So,” Caspar began, trying to make conversation as his eyes peered into the glass windows of the stylish cafés and boutiques which surrounded him, “a friend works there?”
Caspar could see the way Ferdinand’s eyebrow twitched ever so slightly from the corner of his eye as he continued walking ahead, not turning to look back at Caspar. “An acquaintance.” He corrected firmly. “You’ll see when you meet him.”
“Same difference.” Caspar snickered at the miffed look on Ferdinand’s face, he almost wanted to pull his phone out to take a picture of it for Dorothea. She appreciated toying with Ferdinand as much as Caspar did.
“Most definitely not the same difference, but whatever makes you happy.” He heard Caspar yawn again, “The coffee here should wake you up, even though I must say the tea I brew at home is much better.” Ferdinand stuffed his hands in his pockets, falling back to walk in line with Caspar. If Caspar was brutally honest, he couldn’t stand the taste of bitter coffee, but he wasn’t about to tell Ferdinand that, because then he would be forced into drinking some of his floral tea. Ferdinand had already force-fed Caspar enough of that shit for him to know it was bad.
They stopped in front of a small building on the same street. It was lined with dusty brown bricks and moss delicately falling down the exterior walls. The windows were wide and exposed the warm and bustling interior, a deep orange hue emanating from the modern chandelier which hung in the middle. Surrounding the windows were elegant fairy lights and a small sign saying ‘Café Adresria’. “This is the place.” Ferdinand took hold of the door handle, pulling the door open and motioning for Caspar to enter, “Well-“
Caspar grinned at Ferdinand’s chivalrous act and plodded inside, immediately feeling grateful for the concept of indoor heating, as he felt his bones begin to warm up. The café was just as elegant inside as it was on the outside, with stylish exposed brick walls and vibrant potted plants littered throughout. They joined the long line of people waiting to order and Caspar continued to glance around the café with glistening eyes, his gaze falling upon the menu written neatly on a chalkboard.
His eyes skimmed across the writing and he was immediately dumbfounded. Why were there so many different types of coffee? A cappuccino- sure, he knew what that was, but then it started getting weirder. What was a macchiato and why were there three different variations? Coffee’s coffee, right? Caspar frowned, apparently not. He squinted at one of the many versions of espressos- The Duke’s Espresso. Well that gave him no context whatsoever of who this Duke was and what his espresso entailed. It was fourteen dollars too! Obviously, this place was perfect for someone as bougie as Ferdinand.
“Hey, you said something about your dad being a Duke, right?” Caspar spoke as he continued to scrutinise the overly complex menu.
Ferdinand hummed, “Well, yes. He’s something of a Duke.” They moved ahead in the queue, “I’m not sure how much recognition he’d get for it today though.”
Caspar nodded, choosing to abandon the menu and look around the rest of the café. His eyes landed on a strikingly pale man with dark black hair resting over on eye rather ominously. Caspar noted his rather prominent cheekbones with a snicker, which really lifted his look from ‘scary man’ to ‘poor attempt at a kid’s vampire costume’.
“Aegir.” The vampire spat, almost causing Caspar to jump because what the hell, how did this vampire know Ferdinand.
“Uh, how does Dracula know your name?”
“Vestra.” Ferdinand replied blandly, ignoring Caspar, a look of distaste tainting his face.
“What brings you to this establishment.” Vestra, as Ferdinand called him, spoke slowly. “You do know that I work here, yes?” Seriously, how ominous could this guy get? Who talked like that?
Ferdinand was almost grimacing at this point, “Me and my friend, Caspar, were just going to work on our project. Now if you don’t mind, Hubert, stop giving me those looks. We are in a public place, you know.” Firstly, why did Ferdinand tell the vampire Caspar’s name, now he was definitely going to be killed in his sleep. Secondly, you could slice the tension between the two of them with a knife, it was that palpable. As much as Caspar loved a good fight, this was not one he wanted to be a part of.
“Uh, Ferdinand why don’t you catch up with your” he looked at Hubert who sent him a glare full of deathly intent back, “friend. I’ll get us our drinks. Find a table too, while you’re at it.” Caspar pushed Ferdinand out the line and stepped ahead in the queue, praying that he could get to the front and order the damn drinks already.
“He’s an acquaintance!” he could hear Ferdinand call from behind, which he chose to promptly ignore. He’d almost reached the front of the line now, only one customer ahead of him and blocking his view of the employees and coffee grinders.
“But I have my loyalty card! This is preposterous, how can you try to tell me that tea isn’t one of the free drinks.” The customer in front with striking purple hair banged his hand against the wooden counter.
“Sir, I’ve already told you that it’s company policy. There’s nothing I can do about it.” Caspar heard the lazy drawl of the employee.
“Well, I’d like to have a word with the manager, in that case!” The purple haired man said as he turned his nose up, slamming his hand against the counter one more time for extra impact.
“Fine by me,” he heard the same voice speak and he could practically hear the roll of the eyes which he was sure followed, “as long as you’re okay with me calling him over.” The angry customer quickly turned his head and, after a quick look in Hubert’s direction, his expression quickly paled.
“On second thought-“ he began again, less confidently this time, “I don’t think we need to get the manager involved. This is an issue between you and me, is it not?” Caspar narrowed his eyes as the other customer began ranting about ‘tea’ and ‘poor customer service’ and decided that he really had enough of this place. All he wanted was to get his damn drinks, finish this stupid project and to promptly go home and sleep the rest of the day away so he could wake up tomorrow feeling like his usual, more energised self. But with this customer ahead of him, who continued to pester the poor barista, it didn’t look like that was going to happen any time soon. Well, he wasn’t a stranger to breaking up fights.
“Hey man, I think you should back off now and just pay the five dollars.” His eyes glanced over the form of the other customer, noting the clearly designer trench coat as well as the atrocious fake rose pinned to his dress shirt. Everything about him oozed luxury and obnoxious, and he could clearly afford to just pay for his drink normally. “Stop bothering the poor guy and just order.”
“Who are you to tell me, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester of all people, to leave.” He had his head turned down as he spoke to Caspar in a way that made the other’s blood boil, and the second he flipped his geometric long purple hair over his shoulder, Caspar knew that he was only seconds away from punching this guy straight in the stomach. “I’ll leave of my own volition, thank you very much. Hmph.” And with that ‘Lorenz Hellman Gloucester’ was out the door.
“Well, he was a nightmare.” He heard the familiar voice of the barista, smooth like honey, and he turned his head to face him, immediately awestruck. Now, one could easily argue that Caspar was one to exaggerate. A lot. Once he told his parents he killed a man when he was seven, instead only having pushed one of his classmates over, and another time he claimed to be the strongest man alive when he managed to open a jar of pickles. This time, however, he was not in the slightest exaggerating when he said that the barista was the most gorgeous, most beautiful, most enchanting man he had ever seen. He had long, silky verdant hair flowing past his shoulders, half tied neatly in a bun, and the deepest blue eyes Caspar had ever seen. Not to mention the rest of his decisively delicate features set across the rest of his face. Caspar almost wanted to hide from those sleepy, half-lidded eyes! “Hello?” the barista repeated himself, “Are you going to order something?” his brows were furrowed slightly in confusion and Caspar felt something in his heart jump.
“O-Oh yeah!” he spluttered, mentally scolding himself from spacing out there. Play it cool, Caspar. Don’t weird him out by staring any longer than you already have. “I was just thinking about how, uh-“ think of something to say, think of anything to say, “nice roses smell.” He laughed awkwardly. Damn you, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, damn you.
He could have sworn he saw a small smile grace the barista’s face momentarily, only for a second, before it was gone. “If that’s a reference to Lorenz Hellman Gloucester,” he began, leaning over to place one elbow on the counter and his cheek in his palm, “I can’t say that I agree. Thank you for getting rid of him, by the way. I’m not sure how I would deal with having him around any longer, it was awfully tiresome.”
Caspar grinned widely, trying to rid himself of the blush that he was sure was blooming across his cheeks now, “No problem! I’m kind of an expert at meddling in arguments.” The green-haired man chuckled softly in response, covering his mouth with his free hand, and Caspar was very close to cheering. That was smooth, he thought to himself with a small nod. Things just had to keep going in the same way and he’d be fine. “So,” he continued, “what’s your name?” he punctuated the question by knocking over the rack of neatly organised salt and pepper satchels with his elbows, but that was a small loss for the next smile the barista shot him.
“I am wearing a nametag, you know.” He yawned into his palm, and Caspar squinted slightly so he could read the text on the silver rectangular nametag pinned neatly on the black apron.
“So, you’re called Linhardt?” Caspar replied eloquently.
“My nametag says so.” Linhardt, as Caspar had recently learnt, said, “Now, I’d hate to end this conversation early, but there is quite the line forming behind you. So, may I take your order?”
“Oh!” Caspar glanced up at the blackboard overhead and grimaced as the abundance of choices ambushed him once again, then he looked back at Linhardt, “Anything you’d recommend?” As long as he didn’t offer him the most bitter coffee on the menu, Caspar would be fine.
“Well,” Linhardt drawled, eyes looking upwards as he thought before quickly returning to gaze into what felt like Caspar’s very soul, “I don’t really like coffee.” Caspar gave him a incredulous look, “Wonderfully ironic, I know.” He continued, “But you look like you could use the strongest thing on the menu.” He motioned at the dark circles under Caspar’s eyes, and Caspar scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Cool.” He replied as nonchalantly as he could. Why didn’t he just tell Linhardt that he hated bitter coffee? He didn’t know himself, but now he would be damned if he wasn’t about to commit. “Oh, and could I get a tea with that?” he added.
Linhardt looked at Caspar over his shoulder, hands occupied with the coffee machine, “Any specifics of what type of tea?” Quick Caspar, think. Don’t screw this up! What type of tea did Ferdinand like to drink anyway? He glanced around the tea station frantically, setting his eyes on a clear jar filled with tea leaves labelled ‘Earl Grey’. Sure, that would do.
“Earl Grey.” He averted his gaze from deep blue eyes, instead turning to search for Ferdinand as Linhardt got to work with a heavy sigh. He scanned his eyes across the shop, not finding his ginger haired friend near the entrance where he left him with Hubert. Ugh, even the mention of that guy creeped him out. He looked back at Linhardt, not being able to picture someone as laid back as him working with someone as…creepy as Hubert. “Hey,” he began, trying to capture the barista’s attention, being met with a hum as the other was mixed some strange blend of leaves together in another odd machine Caspar didn’t know the name or purpose of, “do you really work here with Hubert?”
Linhardt looked over his shoulder again, green hair cascading over one shoulder as he smiled wryly and chuckled softly- again, Caspar noted- at the sheer distaste of Caspar’s tone, “Yes, sadly he is my manager.” He paused, muttering something to himself as he swirled a dark liquid in a glass jug, “How do you know Hubert? He isn’t exactly one to make friends with someone as bright as yourself.” Bright? Linhardt thought Caspar was bright? His heart felt like it was fluttering in his chest again, threatening to spill out, and suddenly he had forgotten all about the fact that Linhardt was still there and was staring at him with an odd look as he gawked at him with a blissful grin on his face, as he failed to respond to the question.
“Ferdinand!” Caspar spoke quickly, snapping himself out of his daze. Linhardt’s expression reverted back to the blank one he sported before, “My friend Ferdinand knows him. I’m not sure if those two are friends though, it seems a bit tense between those two if you ask me…” he trailed off before snorting, “they’re a little like a cat and dog actually.”
Linhardt placed two pristine ceramic cups, filled respectively with tea and coffee, on the wooden counter, “I’m sure Hubert would love to hear about your comparison of him to an animal.” He smiled and Caspar grinned back, taking hold of the cups and immediately regretting his decision, lurching his hand backwards. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Yeah, no shit!” Caspar laughed as he took the tray Linhardt placed on the counter with the pair of drinks and searched through his back pocket for his wallet. He was sure it was there somewhere, he just had to shimmy around a little bit and- it wasn’t there, “Uh, just a minute!” he laughed awkwardly, what some may have described as desperately, because where was his damn wallet? It couldn’t be at home, surely not. He could not have screwed this up for himself. He was going to have to ask Ferdinand to pay and that meant having to go find him and that, in turn, meant Hubert. He groaned audibly and Linhardt was looking at him with that mildly amused look again.
“What are you doing?” He asked as Caspar sullenly retracted his hand from his back pocket.
“Looking for my wallle-“
Linhardt cut Caspar short, “It’s on the house this time,” before Caspar had time to retort he continued speaking, “as thanks for dealing with Lorenz Hellman Gloucester.” He added with a lazy flourish of the wrist.
“Are you sure about this?” Caspar asked and Linhardt nodded, “You’re seriously a lifesaver, I forgot my wallet!” he laughed, continuing to blabber on, “You saved me! Man, I love you!” he immediately shut his mouth, a red flush spreading across his cheeks. He did not just confess his love to the barista. The barista he’d been staring at for the better half of the five minutes he had known him for. The barista who he had literally just met. No way, not even Caspar would do something that stupid. If the silence on Linhardt’s behalf was anything to go by, however, it looked like he was, indeed, that stupid, and had royally screwed things up. Just his luck. “Thanks again.” He said quickly as he grabbed the tray and turned to find an empty table to wallow at.
“Hey,” he heard Linhardt’s voice call him from behind, so he took a deep breath and turned to face the other, “I didn’t get your name.” His heart exploded for the third time that day, and he let out a breathless laugh in relief. Okay, he didn’t mess everything up, good going.
“I’m Caspar.” He smiled, boyish and toothy, and was met with a smaller smile (but a smile all the same) in return.
“Okay then, Caspar,” Caspar felt giddy hearing his name roll off Linhardt’s tongue in the oh so natural way that it did, “enjoy your coffee.”
“I will, thanks!” he waved, still staring like a lovestruck puppy as Linhardt began to serve the next customer. Oh right, the next customer. He was in a public place and was most certainly holding up the line.
“Are you going to leave so I can finally order my damn coffee?” a man of a similar height with dark hair haphazardly thrown into a ponytail asked him, expression dark and brooding.
“I was just leaving, jeez.” Caspar muttered to himself as he searched the small café for any sign of long ginger hair.
“Caspar!” Ferdinand’s voice rang in his ears, coming from a table in the furthest right corner of the room beside a vast glass window. “I’m over here.” He waved Caspar over, nodding at the seat opposite him to motion for the other to sit down. In any other scenario, Caspar probably would have immediately sat down. However, this was no ordinary scenario, and that was for two primary reasons. Reason number one, he was still completely dazed from his (short, not that he would admit it) conversation with the cute barista, and reason number two, Ferdinand was holding hands across the table with fucking Hubert.
“I thought you hated that guy! Or were ‘acquaintances’, or whatever you called it, at least!” he pointed his finger accusingly at Hubert, who simply smiled ominously in Caspar’s vague direction and squeezed Ferdinand’s hand tighter. Caspar seriously wanted to throw up, ugh PDA. He’d never be as gross as that, in public of all places too!
“Well,” Ferdinand giggled. He fucking giggled, “we sorted out some issues between the two of us.” Hubert laughed darkly, taking Caspar’s coffee and sipping lightly at it.
“I suppose you could say we are courting now.” Yeah, Caspar really was about to throw up.
He snatched his coffee back from Hubert’s death grip, “That’s my drink, you know.” How dare Hubert take the drink Linhardt so lovingly made for Caspar.
“I didn’t see you pay for it.” Caspar opened his mouth to retort, but couldn’t find anything to say, “And I am the manager of this café, yes Caspar?” Hubert grinned in a way that could only be described as manically.
“And I’m Ferdinand’s actual friend, and we have a project to work on, so I’d appreciate if you leave.” Caspar finally replied. Sure, it was a weak argument, suggesting that the owner of the café who was drinking Caspar’s unpaid for drink should leave his own table, but when said with enough oomph, Caspar was convinced that he got the message across.
“My love,” Hubert turned to Ferdinand, his expression completely morphing to something near affectionate, “surely you’d want for me to rid us of this brute?”
Ferdinand turned to look at Caspar, and then back at Hubert with a soft expression, before glancing pleadingly at Caspar again. “Caspar…” he began.
“Really? You’re going to take Hubert’s side?” Caspar practically screeched.
Ferdinand shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh, “I’m not taking anyone’s side,” he took Hubert’s hand again and urged the other to stand up, quickly downing his tea in one sip (which Caspar thought definitely wasn’t very noble of him, but whatever) and slinked his bag over his shoulder, “but I do think that Hubert and I need to spend some quality time together, so I’ll be off for now.”
Caspar frowned, stepping to the left so Hubert (ugh) could manoeuvre his way out of his chair and stand uncomfortably close to Ferdinand, “What about our project though?” Don’t get him wrong, Caspar certainly didn’t care one bit about the stupid project, he just wanted to get the upper hand over Hubert, who had unofficially declared war on Caspar with his eerie smile.
“Didn’t you hear hi-“ Hubert spoke dangerously before Ferdinand hushed him with a simple grasp of the wrist. Caspar smiled slyly at the other. Caspar-1, Hubert-1, they were equal now.
“I’ll do both halves as an apology for this, Caspar.” Ferdinand sounded apologetic enough, so Caspar rolled his eyes before taking the seat Ferdinand had previously occupied and swirled the coffee about languidly with the teaspoon in the cup.
“Ugh, fine,” Caspar tried to sound as inconvenienced as possible, hiding how he was internally cheering because he was free of the project, “go have fun on your date, I guess.” He glared at Hubert, who narrowed his one visible pale green eye back.
“Thank you ever so much, Caspar. Goodbye!” Ferdinand waved as he slipped his coat back on and led Hubert by the hand from the café, leaving Caspar alone at the table.
Now, Caspar could go back to his shared apartment, straight to his bed to regain his energy like he had wanted to do only thirty minutes prior. Instead, he found himself settling into his plush chair and swirling the strange concoction- he meant drink- in his mug. It was extremely dark, as black as Hubert’s hair (and soul probably) and smelled pungent to go with it. Caspar wasn’t exactly terrified of the drink, but he sure as hell was scared of trying it. He glanced back up towards the front of the café again and saw the barista- Linhardt, as he recalled- wiping the counter with his eyes half lidded like he could pass out then and there. Right, there was no way Caspar was leaving before he finished this damn drink. He took in a deep breath before downing half the mug, grimacing after he swallowed and slamming the mug back down onto the table.
“Argh!” What the hell was that? Caspar had been to enough college parties to have his fair share of shitty alcohol that tasted like pure toilet water or burnt his throat like the ‘eternal flames’, as Dimitri put it, but never in his life had he tasted something as bitter as this poison Linhardt had made him.
“I take it that you like it?” Caspar jumped from hearing a voice from beside him. He turned to look and it was Linhardt, who didn’t say anything else and stared at Caspar with an odd look on his face.
“Uh, yeah! It was delicious!” he replied quickly. Caspar hated liars, they obstructed justice in every manner, and so he had vowed to never lie in his life. And what he said regarding the drink certainly wasn’t a lie! It really wasn’t! It was just stretching the truth, that was all. Delicious was a subjective term, so sure, the coffee was delicious by all means. At least that’s all Linhardt had to know.
Linhardt scooted into the chair opposite Caspar and rested his head against his folded arms on the table, shutting his eyes and letting his emerald hair fall like yarn over his face. “Mm, I don’t really like coffee myself. Too bitter…” he trailed off, leaving Caspar trying not to stare at his resting form for unnatural periods of time. What counted as ‘unnatural’, anyway?
“What’re you doing over here? Don’t you have to get back to work or something?” Caspar asked, averting his eyes when Linhardt lifted his head to glance at him.
“I’m on my nap break.” He answered.
“You get a nap break?” Caspar asked incredulously.
Linhardt shook his head, “Do you really think Hubert would give me a nap break?” Caspar laughed as he shook his head in return, “I only do it when he’s out, and that happens more often than not when he’s on an ‘on’ period in his little relationship with Fer- I forget his name-“ he reached his pointer finger up to his mouth as he thought.
“Ferdinand.” Caspar added, “Ugh, their relationship is so gross.”
Linhardt laughed, a light and airy thing which made Caspar’s heart flutter like nothing else, “You haven’t even seen the full extent of their PDA yet.”
“I hope I never do.” Caspar groaned. Linhardt was resting his chin on his scrunched fist now, and his eyes looked more alive than they did before. “I thought you were going to nap. I guess you must really want to talk to me if I’m keeping you up.” Caspar laughed to himself.
“Hm, perhaps.” Linhardt spoke slowly, almost like he was thinking about every single word that he said, “I find that talking to you is slightly more enjoyable than taking a nap.” Caspar couldn’t process the next thing Linhardt said because of how fast his heart was beating, and the next thing he knew the other was standing up. “I suppose I should get back to work now.” he yawned into his palm as he retied his apron, a neat little bow at his back, “Will I see you here again, Caspar?”
Caspar grinned, downing the rest of his drink for good measure and resisting the urge to quiver at the taste, “You know it!” he stood up too, heading for the door. “I’ll see you when I see you, Linhardt!”
“I look forward to it.”
Caspar heard the small bell above the door ring as he left, and despite the cold winter air which assaulted his face, Caspar just couldn’t wipe the wolfish grin off his face. Despite the snow filling his shoes and the numbness of his hands, he felt warm and fuzzy inside. It wasn’t long before he was inside the apartment he shared with his friend Ashe, his cat walking up to him and nuzzling his leg. “Hey Pikachu, what’s up?” he crouched down to pick the cat up and hug him to his chest.
“You seem awfully cheerful.” Ashe commented as he stuck his head out from behind his bedroom door, noting the spring in Caspar’s step. “Did something happen?”
“Yes, my friend.” Caspar began dramatically, “I have fallen in love.”
Caspar hated coffee. Not a single ounce of his being liked the bitter liquid. But if drinking it meant he could go and see Linhardt again, he was sure as hell going back to that café and drinking that damn coffee again.