Coffee

Chapter 4

It's almost time to go.

You let your thoughts run whilst you shower, preparing to head home. It's early in the morning and you struggle to keep your eyes open; though he did not come back as you'd hoped, a certain someone wouldn't leave your thoughts long enough to let you sleep.

But you haven't heard from Lin since he left so abruptly yesterday. You hope he's okay, but then again, you haven't tried to contact him either. You wonder if it might be too pushy, texting him now...

What are we, seventeen?

But it is what it is. You're sure he has his own life to get back to, and maybe what you shared was simply a beautiful memory. Seeing him again would be amazing, but you know how to be realistic - even if your entire... whatever with him was so dreamlike, you almost question whether your exhausted mind had fabricated the whole affair.

But alas, it was real, and you're sure of it when you step out of the bath and grab a fresh towel. Along with it, you find the fluffy bathrobe, and you smile to yourself at the memory of how stupidly cute he looked in it. When you pull it on, you can't get those pictures out of your head...

Damn.

You resolve to at least try to contact him before you leave. That's fair. You're kidding yourself otherwise - this can't be it.

This in mind, you start to gather the last of your things from around the bathroom. As you shift the spare towels off the rail, making sure you haven't left anything behind, a white t-shirt falls out of the bunch of fabric. You pick it up, and it's quite obviously his.

Well, it's yours now.

~

Your luggage is loaded into the black car that awaits you outside the hotel. It's brighter today, the sun beams on you and you can feel its warmth as you step outside. You slide into the back seat, greeting the driver, and as the vehicle sets off, you take off your sweater and place it to one side. You're wearing Lin's t-shirt under it, and the faint scent of cologne, coffee and something you still can't place lingers on the soft fabric. It doesn't make sense, but it's so very him that you don't want to question it. You're fully aware you're in too deep considering the situation, and frankly it's a little terrifying, but who can argue with matters of the heart?

You tried to call him before you left the hotel, but the line was dead. Your phone buzzes in your lap and you glance down at the screen, hoping against hope that it's him. But nope, just another email that has no business existing outside of office hours - it's Sunday, for heaven's sake. You may be what some refer to as a workaholic, but even you know where to draw that line.

But it's not him. And with no idea where he could actually be, all you can do is sit there in silence with your longing and watch the city fly by through the window.

Unless.

An idea clicks and you ask the driver if you have time for a quick detour. He responds with an affirmative - you let him know where you need to stop. Before long, the car pulls up outside the bookshop.

You step out and head inside, but you can't hide your disappointment when you realize the place is deserted. He isn't here.

It was worth a shot.

Might as well get some coffee for the road, you conclude. The same barista greets you, and she evidently remembers - when you place your order and open up your purse, the young woman shakes her head.

"Coffee's on the house," she says.

"Thank you - but why?" you ask, thrown off.

"You'll get all your coffee for free," she sings with a giggle, leaving you entirely confused. "Lin said not to let you pay," she elaborates.