Serenade in a Coffee Cup

A Taste of Us

The warm glow of the setting sun filtered through the windows of the cafe, casting a golden hue over the wooden tables and chairs. Orm pushed through the front door, the familiar chime signaling her arrival. Ling looked up from behind the counter, a tired but genuine smile lighting up her face as she saw Orm.

"Hey, you," Ling greeted, wiping her hands on a towel. "You're a bit early today."

Orm grinned, tossing her jacket onto one of the chairs. "Figured I'd give you a hand with closing. It's kind of our thing now, isn't it?"

Ling chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, I suppose it is. Not that I mind. You're a pretty good helper."

Orm stepped behind the counter, rolling up her sleeves. "I better be. I've been practicing for a while now."

As they worked together, wiping down tables and washing dishes, there was a comfortable silence between them. The rhythm of their routine was familiar, almost like a dance they'd perfected over time. Every now and then, their hands would brush against each other, sending little sparks of electricity through Orm's skin. Ling noticed too, her cheeks flushing slightly each time it happened, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she found herself leaning into the moments, enjoying the closeness they shared.

After the last table was wiped down and the final dish was dried and put away, Ling let out a sigh of relief. "All done," she declared, leaning against the counter.

"Perfect timing," Orm replied, glancing at the clock. "You ready to head out?"

Ling nodded, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "Where to?"

Orm flashed her a playful smile. "My place. I'm cooking tonight."

Ling raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's on the menu, Chef Orm?"

"You'll have to wait and see," Orm teased, grabbing Ling's hand and leading her out the door. "But I promise it'll be worth the suspense."

They made their way to Orm's apartment, the cool evening air wrapping around them as they walked hand in hand. The city was alive with the sounds of traffic and distant music, but in their little bubble, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.

When they arrived at Orm's place, Ling couldn't help but marvel at how cozy it felt. The soft lighting, the eclectic mix of decorations, and the faint smell of incense lingering in the air—it was all so very Orm.

"Make yourself comfortable," Orm said, leading Ling to the living room. "I'll get started in the kitchen."

Ling nodded, settling onto the couch and watching as Orm moved around the kitchen with a practiced ease. There was something mesmerizing about the way Orm cooked—the way she chopped vegetables with precision, the way she tasted the sauce with a thoughtful expression, the way she moved with a quiet confidence.

"You look so serious when you're cooking," Ling teased, resting her chin on her hand.

Orm glanced over her shoulder, a smirk playing on her lips. "Gotta make sure everything's perfect for my favorite person."

Ling felt her heart skip a beat at the casual affection in Orm's words. "Well, if you keep this up, I might get used to being spoiled."

"Oh, I'm counting on it," Orm replied, her tone playful but her eyes warm.

As the food sizzled on the stove, Orm and Ling fell into easy conversation. They joked about work, reminisced about the past few weeks, and shared stories from their childhoods. But beneath the laughter and light-hearted banter, Orm couldn't shake the growing anxiety that gnawed at her. The thought of Bright, lurking somewhere in the shadows, sent a chill down her spine.