Hex
Alcuin had only just gotten to the point where he felt comfortable walking around the city again, without fear of some tabloid reporter popping up out of the bushes. It was true what they said about the news - people were fickle, and they were already onto the next thing.
He had decided to walk home rather than taking a taxi, and was enjoying the briskness of the air, his hands in the pockets of his coat as he passed by a coffee shop. He paused, considering going inside, when he saw a man just inside.
As certain as Alcuin was that he didn't know the man, something was so, so familiar about him, nagging at his memory, threatening to unravel some thread if it were so much as tugged. He was trying not to stare, but it was driving him mad that he couldn't place him.
He had decided to walk home rather than taking a taxi, and was enjoying the briskness of the air, his hands in the pockets of his coat as he passed by a coffee shop. He paused, considering going inside, when he saw a man just inside.
As certain as Alcuin was that he didn't know the man, something was so, so familiar about him, nagging at his memory, threatening to unravel some thread if it were so much as tugged. He was trying not to stare, but it was driving him mad that he couldn't place him.