The daily routine was as simple as it was predictable. You waited in line for twenty minutes behind everyone and their brother who ordered drinks Noah couldn't pronounce if he tried, just to get a cup of coffee. It used to be annoying, but now, the line was a time to clear his head before the day got off the ground. Granted, it was hard for him to have anything in his head before he had some decent caffeine in his system, but small moments of reflection and meditation were sometimes needed when you lived in the heart of a big city. 

Boston had never felt like a 'big city' to Noah Lombardi, though. He'd grown up there, and had loved the ins and outs of it for as long as he could remember. When he was old enough to appreciate it, it was the history and the buildings that made the city feel like home. He had been told on more than one occasion that he had a knack for art, and he had always intended to use that skill to become an architect - design buildings and landscapes and everything in between. But a few mistakes and lack of drive in high school made it nearly impossible for Noah to get into a college, and it wasn't as though his parents could have paid for it, regardless. The smartest move, according to his father, would be to join the 'family business'. 

[b] Lombardi's Auto Repair [/b] The back of his black t-shirt smacked a daily label on him that he couldn't get rid of, but it was a job, he got to work with his father, and he got to work with his hands, so he had never complained much about it. 

The sun was hot that morning - too hot for black coffee, but he'd gotten one anyway, letting the steam slowly seep through the lid to cool as he walked down the bustling sidewalk. He would be late...again, but at that point his tardiness was almost a running joke. Hoping that coffee was cool enough to sip, Noah started to take the plastic black lid off, when...it was on the ground. Along with most of the liquid from the cup. The rest of it seemed to be dispersed evenly on the front of his shirt, and on the feet of whoever stood in front of him. All he saw were her feet as he silently and quickly mourned the loss of his caffeine. "Jesus, lady, don't you know how to walk?" 

As his eyes shifted upward in one swift motion, he cocked a brow. "Yeah, I get that." He acknowledged when this girl admitted she wasn't looking where she was going. His accent was thick, his voice deep and almost 'dark' in a way. Letting out an elongated breath, he crouched down to pick up his empty cup, checking it as if to make sure there wasn't a drop left for him to drink. Nothing. 

"Look, its fine. I'll get some coffee at work. Your phone's probably shot to hell, huh?" He gave a nod toward the...well, somewhat-dripping cell phone she'd picked up from the ground.