Awesome
He tastes like Harmony's coffee.
Nothing else tastes like Harmony's coffee. It's like a dish cooked up by a chef that refuses to enjoy their own creations. There's an odd sort of disconnect to hot beverages served by a vampire, and she's always adding the oddest things to it. Again, because she's not the one drinking it. That is a whole 'nother world of culinary delight, and Fred can always tell when Harmony's been in the break room.
Wesley drinks it though. The coffee. Maybe because he's the one that hired her. Maybe it's his quiet way of believing in a person. Maybe he's just thirsty, and it is what's there. Or maybe he's a little less hard than his years and experiences and wants and walls would have someone believe. Fred's been watching him a lot of late, and she's pretty settled on the idea of all of them. With a heavy dose of the latter.
It is there on the back of his tongue, curled up in the warmest, darkest recesses of his mouth. He's content, relaxed in his day and place and satisfaction in a job well done. A little be tired maybe, but not in a bad way. He's been relaxed while Fred's been rehearsing behind closed door. Letting down her hair. Wishing for the first time her lab had a mirror and not just shiny surfaces to catch your reflection in. Wondering what to say.
She says a lot.
He says a little.
She kisses him.
He kisses her a lot more.
His five o'clock shadow is rubbing new lines to the story into her cheek. He will touch her face later and Fred imagines him reading them back to her. She can feel where his jacket landed at their feet, tickling one ankle. So she steps closer to him and feels other things.
He tastes like coffee. Good coffee. Fred thinks she just might have to compliment Harmony on it later, using words she will understand. Awesome, she'll say.
Harmony will grin and say she knew it all along.
Fred won't be able to disagree.
Nothing else tastes like Harmony's coffee. It's like a dish cooked up by a chef that refuses to enjoy their own creations. There's an odd sort of disconnect to hot beverages served by a vampire, and she's always adding the oddest things to it. Again, because she's not the one drinking it. That is a whole 'nother world of culinary delight, and Fred can always tell when Harmony's been in the break room.
Wesley drinks it though. The coffee. Maybe because he's the one that hired her. Maybe it's his quiet way of believing in a person. Maybe he's just thirsty, and it is what's there. Or maybe he's a little less hard than his years and experiences and wants and walls would have someone believe. Fred's been watching him a lot of late, and she's pretty settled on the idea of all of them. With a heavy dose of the latter.
It is there on the back of his tongue, curled up in the warmest, darkest recesses of his mouth. He's content, relaxed in his day and place and satisfaction in a job well done. A little be tired maybe, but not in a bad way. He's been relaxed while Fred's been rehearsing behind closed door. Letting down her hair. Wishing for the first time her lab had a mirror and not just shiny surfaces to catch your reflection in. Wondering what to say.
She says a lot.
He says a little.
She kisses him.
He kisses her a lot more.
His five o'clock shadow is rubbing new lines to the story into her cheek. He will touch her face later and Fred imagines him reading them back to her. She can feel where his jacket landed at their feet, tickling one ankle. So she steps closer to him and feels other things.
He tastes like coffee. Good coffee. Fred thinks she just might have to compliment Harmony on it later, using words she will understand. Awesome, she'll say.
Harmony will grin and say she knew it all along.
Fred won't be able to disagree.