Silk

Natural Environment

By the time the white haired Brit managed to get into the coffee shop, he was utterly soaked. His clothes clung to him like a second skin. Even when he tried, he could scarcely pull the cloth away. Sighing, he scanned the little place as he waited for the server to appear. The wall to his left was a bookcase covered with books, with leafy green plants hung to lovingly frame them, and there was even a few photographs and ornaments. On the other wall, there was a large glass door inset into windows. It opened up to a small stone courtyard. Despite the rain, there was an attractive lure to it- he could tell it would be beautiful on a sunny day, especially with the bright flowers planted around the edge. The small tables out there had individual umbrellas set up to keep the seats dry. Even though it was tempting, he couldn't bring himself to go back out into the rain just yet. He turned back to the counter and glanced it over- little iced cakes sat on a glass pedestal, covered with a bell jar. There was a heavy-looking chocolate cake next to it, and then flapjack. There was a small chalkboard propped up, discussing the prices of each type of cake, as well as the ingredients. Another plant sat by the till, it's pretty pink flowers in perfect bloom. He smiled slightly. It was a very nice little place. Judging by the smell, the mingling delight of cakes, buttery crumpets, and coffee, the food and drink would be equally nice. Finally, a young barrister appeared, a friendly smile on her face. He requested a mocha, heavy on the cocoa sprinkles and a crumpet. He went and sat at one of the many little tables, undoing his light blue duffle coat and shrugging out of it. He ran his hand through his hair, pushing down on it to squeeze out the water. He shuddered at the feel and shook his head.

While his coffee brewed, he looked at the bookshelf, wondering if there was anything on there he would actually enjoy. When he found that option exhausted and his coffee and crumpet in front of him, he chose instead to observe the few people around him. A perfectly dry girl was sitting in the corner, wearing a heavy cotton jacket. She had gorgeously tan skin, not exactly black but far from caucasian. At a guess, she was Egyptian. Her eyes were winged with the traditional eyeliner, but that seemed to be the only trace of make-up. Her ears were heavily pierced, the cartilage from front helix all the way down to lobe bearing small gold hoops and studs. It did suit her, luckily.

The coup de grace of her appearance was the tattoos- unlike the usual barrage of English Roses, birds and cats, she had sleek, gorgeous patterns. Minimal, but effectively captivating to the eye, a series of interlocking spirals twined round her bared wrist like a bracelet. Rather gorgeously, an eye of Horus was cleverly pieced in as though it was the latch. He could see the barest smudge of tattoo following her collar bone, but that particular tattoo was hidden by her jacket.

His eyes followed up the delicate hollow of her throat to the soft line of her voluptuous lips. The corner of her mouth was curled up as though in amusement. He flushed, feeling scolded, when he caught her own eyes, a gorgeous brown-topaz, fixed on him. More than ever she seemed tall. Her presence struck a majestic note somehow, as though in a past life she had been a Queen, with her straight spine and elegant hands curled around her book. He squinted, unable to see what she was reading.

Her pearly white teeth flashed into a playful grin, and her head dipped down and shook from side to side, her long black hair swinging with her motions. She seemed entirely too amused. He stared down into his coffee, cheeks burning, and picked up his crumpet. He felt slightly ashamed, knowing the moment he bit into his breakfast, the damn butter would streak down his chin and he would make quite the mess of himself, but his stomach ached for want of food. He bit into it, shoulders hunched over in attempt to hide his face and food, and chewed as quickly as he dared, swiping his mouth with the napkin that had been tucked neatly under his plate.

He heard her chair scrape back and couldn't help but freeze. The soft shuffle of trainers against the wooden floor had his shoulders tense. She stopped, right beside him, and laid a book beside his meal.