[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/0rJ2wlq.png[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/sVpRHrI.png[/img] 
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[center][b]Location:[/b] 8th Ward, Tea Lounge
[b]Tag:[/b] [@Fathomless] [@Old Amsterdam]  [/center][hr]

[indent][color=#CD5C5C][b]"T[/b]hank you,"[/color] he uttered, cupping the delicate cup in his hands, wrapping himself in its satisfying scent. For a moment, he stared at it, unblinking and completely isolated. There was a gratifying bubble that expanded in existence during that rather unnatural time. The time between death and survival, between [i][b]having[/b][/i] to kill and being able to [i][b]choose[/b][/i].

Slowly, he let that hot liquid touch his lips, then slide down his throat, filling his gut with nourishment. There was fulfillment for a intimate moment. One that provoked a sigh of both relief and thanks. He placed the coffee down, unknowing that he had completely missed/ignored the pokes and prodding of one of the Doves. He looked at the young man who had served his coffee and smiled that tiny but charming smirk. 

[color=#CD5C5C][b]"This is hand-downs the best coffee I've ever tasted,"[/b][/color] he told him softly.[/indent]