Timeless Tides | ENGLOT

Chapter 5: Familiar Strangers

Calista's POV:

The mild spring breeze is one of my favorite things in the universe. It holds promises of summer days soon to come, and for the love of all that's good, I crave summer to come soon.

Spring is nice, it really is. It's mellow and soft and... nice. Spring with its awakening of colors around me ignites my inspiration, it adds that extra oomph I need to recover from a cold, cold winter. But summer... Summer is something else. Summer is evenings still illuminated by a persistent sun, it's beer and good company by the lake; summer is warmth and allows for lazy smiles and bright laughter, and I can't wait. But for now, spring is nice, and today is a really good day.

On a modest, wooden chair – one of those old, battered ones saved from a flea market and given new life with a touch of bright new paint – I sit by a likewise modest table outside my favorite coffee house. The cup of steaming coffee and the blueberry muffin in front of me are far from modest, though. They're the best in town and one of three reasons this is my favorite place.

The second reason is location. There's a park across the street, and I enjoy sitting under the awning with breezes in my hair, delicious coffee in my belly, and a sketchbook at hand while I observe the scenery in front of me. If anything, it makes for inspiration.

The third reason is the owner of the coffee house, a tall, Brunette man with sensual eyes, a warm smile, and a wise soul.

"Can I join you?"

"Of course, Mav, you know you don't have to ask." I put my sketchbook down and pencil and adjusted in my seat to look up at the barista with a warm smile of my own.

Maverick's hair is fluffy and soft, stewn atop his head, he's wearing a green polo shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and back, one I'm not ashamed to admit I admired many times.

Maverick adjusts the white apron on his hips as he takes a seat next to me. "This is nice," he says, leaning back with a comfortable sigh.

"Mhm," I hum, taking a sip of my coffee. I break off a piece of the muffin, one for Mav, then one for me, before picking up my sketchbook again.

I stumbled upon Maverick's place by chance last summer, and I fell in love with the mismatched chairs and the casual vibe, and this particular spot in front of the park with the town's best coffee and blueberry muffin. It became a sanctuary, a place where I went to hide from the real world.

"Is that what I think it is?" Maverick asks, and I didn't need to look up to know he's referring to the padded envelope lying in its still sealed state on the table.

"Yeah," I grin, my pen effortlessly dancing on paper tracing familiar lines and curves that soon will resemble the profile of Maverick.

"What!?" He exclaims, eyes wide with amusement. "And you haven't ripped it open yet?"

A sideways glance, and I find Maverick shaking his head incredulously. "I know what it is," I say, a coy shrug of my shoulder.

He chuckles, leaning back again. "I expect to see it when you do open it, Cal."

"Actually," I say, eyeing the envelope, "I've been waiting for the right moment. Maybe I was waiting for the company. Want to open it with me?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

With nimble fingers, I pick up the envelope and rip off the seal. I've opened many of these envelopes before, but this one is particularly important. I've done a lot of commissions, a lot of intriguing projects, but this one holds a lot more personal value than any that came before.