Completed Seeking Comfort

[Noah Amuel]

Even with this formal position, maintaining it was a struggle. On a comfort level, he could not feel at ease when trying to present himself in a formal way to Elann. Surely she knew he meant well and with that thought, Noah allowed himself to relax. He kicked his shoes off, leaving his feet bare, and brought his knees to his chest within the chair. His behind sank into the soft cushion of the seat and he truly began to feel comfortable. His arms hugged his knees close as he watched with curious eyes on Elann.

Noah tried to repeat the words that Elann used. The words that were new to him, things he had never heard. These words were: mishenel and mehendi. According to Elann they were the same plant, just called different things. He found it interesting that such differences could exist between the regions and cities themselves. Elann was an exact product of having had become accustom to one region’s names and cultures and having to transfer and translate that knowledge into a new culture, a new region, and new people. Noah couldn’t imagine doing that himself, at least not right now in his life. He’d be utterly lost and confused.

Being born in Zeltiva and being accustomed to their culture and mannerisms, he could attempt to relate but he hadn’t submerged himself in Syliran culture like Elann and thus hadn’t faced the difficulties of the culture barrier like she had to. He felt a small pity for her in an instance but in the next it was gone. Elann had proved to him that she was a stronger girl, able to adapt to such changes with little difficulty. If she was having troubles, it didn’t show that much. The only problem that Noah could see in Elann’s adaptation would be her lack of fluency in the Common tongue -- the language used the most in Syliras -- but he knew that would go away with time and as she practiced speaking in the language more and more.

Elann was at her hearth now and was trying to light a flame within it. Noah could smell the faint scent of yesterday’s stale after-fire and coals but it was soon overpowered by the smell of Elann’s home. This smell made the man comfortable within her abode. Usually the smell of the earth, faint flowers, and herbs would make him uneasy as it meant he was far from the sky. But in Elann’s company such smells were bringing the man into a lull of peace. He was content with watching Elann in her triumph against the hearth.

“There,” she said as she stood. The fire’s smell began to waft into the room from the stone hearth and Noah’s nose wiggled as it teased his nostrils. The first smells of flame weren’t always the best in his opinion but once a flame got going, progressed in its burning of fuel, it began to smell good, great even at times. It crackled and fizzed lightly and fought against the light of waning day with its own orangish glow of comfort.

Noah shifted in his seat some to get a better look of the room. “You dye your hair with plants?” he asked, eyes tracing across the walls. “Art on your skin too? I’ve never seen anything like that.” He then let his eyes settle on Elann, more importantly, her hair. “Is your hair dyed now?”

[Elann]

Noah made himself comfortable and she smiled at it. There was a sense of pleasure she got from supporting someone, providing for them and their needs, and just in general loving on someone. He was beginning to be a decent acquaintance. Someone who she felt more comfortable with, though he was still fairly new to her. She knew almost nothing about him and while she felt secure bringing him here, it did make her nervous to a point. His curious almost childlike nature made her doubt any maliciousness rested in him.

When Noah put his feet up on her chair she was glad she had chosen a fabric that could hide dirt. She didn’t know if he had dirty feet, but still didn’t want him marking up her chair. She kept quiet for now as he looked to her and asked her about her hair.

“Well yes.” He observed the wall strangely like a cat and then finally settled on her. It was a little creepy at times, but it wasn’t her perspective of him. He was a good natured man and even more so now she had gained an understanding of him. Animals did such things as that and it brought a subtle grin to her face. “Yes, very beautiful designs. Mostly for weddings and celebrations in the temple where I live.” She looked down to the kettle to settle it perfectly over the fire. Her hands brought it up and it hooked onto a bar that hung over the flame.

He asked her if her hair was dyed now and she shook her head no. With a correcting tone she said “No, I don’t dye my hair.” Once it was hung she moved across the room to his side, then moved behind him and over to the couch. She sat there and flattened out her dress while she glanced at his feet to see if they were cleaned before she continued.

“I am not a person who wears make-up usually or does things like that. I like the way I am.” she smiled at him and then kicked her feet slightly as her couch was a bit higher set. “You’ve never seen it? Even in Zeltiva?” She didn’t know the way people were over there or even how they thought about such things. The only non-human people she knew well of were Eypharians. Even them she didn’t know well.

Other's Words ~~ My Words ~~ My Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

“You’ve never seen it? Even in Zeltiva?” Elann asked, referring to dyed hair and art.

Noah shook his head, eyes watching her movements on her couch. “Very little of it,” he replied. “Some of the traders had dyed hair and they sold paintings but my family never bought any. We didn’t have a lot of money to use on art. My father also didn’t care for art. He appreciated artists and what they did but he didn’t care too much for colors and creation. He was... simple.”

Noah rolled his jaw around, the words staining his tongue. He wasn’t sure if that was the correct word to use for his father. He felt like it made his father appear as narrow-minded with little complexity but he thought it was the opposite. Noah, in his absence, was able to reflect on his father’s behavior; he was coming to the conclusion that his father was actually very complicated but felt it easier to display a simple side of him as to not scare or confuse people. Noah and his siblings were included with the other people. Maybe his mother, Isabella, knew of his father’s complicated side but maybe not.

He didn’t linger on the thought. His eyes fell from Elann’s face to her kicking feet and he watched them in quiet as they sped back and forth. His eyes would watch one draw forward and the other fall back and then they’d repeat -- changing places in a mesmerizing display. In this small trance Noah thought about what Elann said regarding her appearance and looks. He agreed with her statement and found happiness in the fact that she thought she looked just fine the way she was.

“I like the way you are too,” Noah said, eyes trailing up from her swaying feet, to the skirt of her dress, to her torso, neck, face, and finally her eyes. “I like your home too.” He traced the inside of his mouth with his tongue, searching for more words. “It makes me feel safe.” Noah then smiled slightly to show his appreciation.

It was a true statement. Syliras was much like a cage to a bird like him and it only served to confuse him further with all its walls and rooms and guards. However, in this particular room with Elann, he didn’t feel like he was bound and entrapped. Instead he felt safe within the walls of her abode and even more so in her presence. This cage was not a cage of containment, but one of sanctuary. Noah half hoped that Elann would allow this place to continue to serve as a safe place for him and him alone but, he felt that asking such a thing would seem extremely demanding so he held his tongue.

He hugged his shins and brought his legs closer to him. He took his eyes away from Elann and placed them on his exposed knees where he began to pick at the hair on his legs in a fidgeting way. Elann would notice that the Kelvic was clean, perhaps cleaner since their last meeting. Often Noah would fly to the rivers within the Bronze Woods to bathe himself, saving money as opposed to going to the hot and crowded bath house in Syliras.

[Elann]

Calmly the girl watched as he spoke, listening with interest to what he had to say of his homeland. She thought his description of his father was strange and even stranger said. She blinked at him and curiously tilted her head a bit; reiterating his statement to him in a curious tone. “Simple?” It was one of those opportunities for him to explain further. She hoped he would get the clue. If not she would wave her hand as if beckoning him to continue when he would stop until she was satisfied with the answer.

Noah commonly observed her like a heron observed a swimming fish below it, slow steady movements and yet she remained unmoved by his social awkwardness. She beamed him a little smile when he said he liked the way she was too. Her legs kicked a little bit faster at that moment and as he commented on her home. She subconsciously liked the comments and her legs represented it.

“Thank you Noah. Well...anytime you want to come over you are more than welcome to knock on my door.”

She was being friendly, though she didn’t realize he probably actually would, and would probably do so often. The man in the chair was so proper before and now he was like a little child picking at his knees. She considered if she should correct his behavior or not.

It was not long before the kettle began to boil and she could hear it shaking lightly on the metal rod. It was then that she stood and moved over to it to raise it up a bit from the fire. She turned the crank that lifted the pole up and then she took a cloth to take off the lid of the kettle. The torrent of bubbles inside slowed upon letting the steam escape. She opened her package of coffee and poured it into her mortar and pestle and gave it a good grind for a little bit.

“Have you ever made coffee?” she inquired of him. She then took the water off the hearth to pour into the water basin. She began using the water to clean off two cups that were previously used before with a rag. Once they were cleaned she would take a pot and put it in the place over the hearth where the fire was, and then would grab some milk she had purchased in the morning and pour it into the pot. The clay egg shaped jar that held it was now drained and she cleaned it out as well with the hot water. The milk was more of a thick yogurt at this point, a method that helped keep it longer than just straight from the cow. Still you had to dispose of it in a day lest it could make you ill even if cooled in a dark place in a jar. Now as the heat hit it the milk mixture became liquid once more and she grabbed her sugar. “Did you want to see?”

Other's Words ~~ My Words ~~ My Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

“...anytime you want to come over you are more than welcome to knock on my door,” Elann said.

Noah sank his head down behind his knees to hide the smile that graced his face. Those words had made him happier than Elann could truly know, so he remained hidden until his face relaxed back into its blank yet curious look. “Thank you,” he murmured from behind his knees. When he was sure that he appeared normal again he revealed his face once more and rested his chin on the top of one of his knees. His eyes lingered on Elann for a time as his mind tried to figure out how to thank her further, yet his sights shot to the kettle when it began to audibly boil, a whistle coming on quietly.

He stared at the kettle listening to it rattle on its rod before Elann had came into view beside it. The girl in her peach dress obscured Noah’s sights on the kettle so he let his gaze fall to the floor that she stood on. The Kelvic heard the shallow cling of metal on metal and the churning of a crank and then the rustling of a bag. The curious sounds caused his eyes to wander back to Elann as she began to crush the beans. Her arm churned as she worked to grind the beans down into a fine dust able to be brewed by the hot water.

“Have you ever made coffee?” Elann asked him.

“No,” he replied, eyes watching the motions of her arm and swaying of her dress as she ground the beans.

In the time between her reply to his answer, she continued on about preparing the coffee for them. He watched with extreme inquisition, leaning forward in his seat now. Elann had managed to clean two cups and produce a peculiar shaped jar that held a white liquid. Although Noah wasn’t particularly gleeful to be drinking such liquid, he kept his mouth closed and observed from the distance. “Did you want to see?” Elann asked as she grabbed another container.

“Yes,” Noah replied, pushing himself from the chair. He rose a ways off the cushion and swung his long legs out. The movement propelled him forward and he landed with a soft thud on the soles of his feet. He padded across the floor in a quiet shuffle until he was behind Elann. Noah then peered over her and watched her hands, skillful as they seemed, work their magic with the coffee.

Noah stood close to Elann and could feel the fabric of her dress brush up against his legs, if barely, when the woman moved. He also smelled her. The faint musings of flowers came to his nose, teasing them with their light aroma. Watching Elann, especially when this close, reminded him of his mother and how he would help her when his family actually wanted to attend a meal around their dinner table.

Their table was rarely used for its intended purpose. Frequently his brothers and sisters would have their cuts and bruises tended to by their mother on the table and, sometimes, his father would even accrue his own set of wounds that would need to be tended to by his mother. His mother, like Elann, possessed delicate hands that could weave a stitch in a wound like he imagined Elann doing to tapestry.

He cleared his throat, thinking that he should break his silent yet watchful gaze over Elann’s movements. “My mother used to make coffee for my father,” he said, eyes glossing over Elann’s hands. “My brothers too.” His fingers gripped at the end of his shirt. They balled the cotton fabric up into the palms of his hands as more words were sought after. “Did your family drink coffee a lot like my father? He’d have maybe three or four cups a day if he was home.”

[Elann]

Whatever Noah was doing behind his knees she thought was -extremely- cute. She just wanted to tackle him because the cuteness was so adorable. She had never seen anyone act like that and it brought a rosy red to her cheeks. It made her smile like he had never seen before, brilliantly full of life and excitement, bounding with like cuteness. It was the smile she had when she worshiped Yahal in her private time, reveling in his glory, being filled with joy; joy that made her spontaneously sing. This is the joy she showed Noah right now and it lit her up like a beacon amidst a black night.

She replied happily, “You are welcome”.

With heading over to the coffee, she could see he was curious about what she was doing. She offered for him to come over and he came right up close to watch as she put the sugar bag closer to the fire so it was in reach. As he loomed over her, she seemed unaffected by his close proximity and went right into the lesson.

“So we always make sure to boil water and clean our dishes.” she pointed to the cups that were now drying on a towel, ready to be used in a few moments. Some small coffee spoons lay next to them that were shiny and had little floral designs etched into the metal.

Elann continued saying, “So I’ve poured the milk into the pot and it is heating, and once it is warm, we’ll add the coffee that I’m mixing.”

She took up the mortar and pestle again. It took her a while to get it to the consistency that she was wanting, which was super ultra fine style, that way the coffee would be nice and strong, yet creamy good and sweet. As she circled the mortar with the pestle, her whole body shook with the motion and faint puffs of her powder would escape from her neckline and inch up to his nose; even after spending a good portion of the day rough housing with boys and walking through the stinky city.

Her heart skipped a beat as he cleared his throat right above her head and broke the silence. She looked to him curiously at the sound and it seemed that he wanted to speak. As he expressed that his mother used to make coffee for his father she found she was a bit shocked at his voluntary nature. Perhaps the talk did some more good than originally thought.

She nodded and said, “Mmm my people drink mostly tea, but we drink coffee too. I noticed more people drink coffee up here, so that is why I bought it instead. This is Yahebah Coffee, from my homeland. But yes...my father drinks at least hmm” she had a thoughtful look on her face and then said “about seven cups of tea a day. Two with each meal, and one when he comes in the tent for bed.” she nodded. “He likes his tea….”

“Okay...so now that the milk has begun to move more, see?” she pointed down to the pot. “We can pour in the coffee.” With able hands she tilted the mixture into the pot. She reached over to grasp at a mixing spoon and began to stir in the clumped coffee mixture. It didn’t take long before it had all sunk to the bottom of the white mixture. She let the spoon stay there as she moved over to a bag to grab some cardamom. She then began to crush and mix it as well, she showed him the spice. “Cardamom adds a little spice to the mixture.” It didn’t make it spicy, it just made it taste really good.

Other's Words ~~ My Words ~~ My Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

His eyes, with their quiet calculations, watched her hands move in their skillful way. Noah was ignorant to the fact that Elann was not actually too skilled in making coffee herself and that she was only rehearsing what she had probably been taught or observed when she was younger. Still, her knowledge on the subject far outreached Noah’s own and so he was inclined to have his world revolve slowly around her and her talk of the subject.

“That’s a lot of tea,” he said, voice trailing off as he hovered. When Elann mentioned the milk Noah looked in the pot where the white yogurt like substance had melted into a pale simmering mixture. He wrinkled his nose at the smell. It wasn’t particularly unpleasant. It was just a habit by now. The Kelvic took a step back as Elann moved to lift the crushed coffee and dump it into the pot along with the milk. The smell that the coffee produced as it was exposed to air brought a quickly fading memory of brewing coffee at his family home in Zeltiva.

The memory passed and his sights and thoughts were on Elann and her movements. She took a wooden mixing spoon to the pot and began to stir it. The coffee began to clump at first but, at Elann’s prodding, it began to be swallowed by the milk and, in turn, the milk’s white color gave way for a light brown that only got darker the longer Elann stirred. Elann took her hands from the spoon and began to move about the hearth again. This time she found another bag that she explained to be cardamom. Apparently it added flavor to the coffee. Noah didn’t question her even though he had never heard of the spice before.

“Cardamom,” he repeated after her in a whisper. “I’ve never heard of that,” he said louder now. Now that he thought about it, his mother never spiced their coffee at all. She rarely did anything to her tea either. Everything she ate and drank was natural and organic, never devirginized by human intervention. And Noah himself had taken on the nature of his mother without realizing it until this moment. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Elann adding cardamom to the coffee now, but still his mouth remained shut.

He brought his hand up to his temple and scratched an itch as he watched on. “Does it make it sweeter?” he asked referring to the cardamom. “Or is sugar the only thing that does that?” He knew nothing about cooking and wouldn’t be surprised if Elann had gotten that idea by now. Even though he did watch his mother cook, he didn’t pay much attention to her technique or ask questions on why she used which spices and when to stir and when to let the broth boil. There was just too many other things in his life that seemed more interesting than cooking. Why cook when you can just eat your meal raw without any consequences? Previously cooking had seemed like a waste of time but now that Elann was showing him this very common thing in her culture, he thought that it wouldn’t hurt to learn.

Even though eating raw food didn’t diminish in its favor with him, he wondered what it’d be like to eat a home cooked meal every now and then. Perhaps he would ask Elann to cook for him, if it wasn’t too rude or demanding. That remained to be seen and her skill remained to be reviewed.

He shifted his weight onto one leg, folded his arms, and hugged himself at the same time. The smell that was coming from the pot did smell good and he couldn’t wait for the next step to be revealed.

[Elann]

.

The greenish cardamom was broken apart now by the might of the pestle and released a very powerful aromatic scent. He said he had never heard of it. She wasn’t surprised. Much of the Syliran cuisine was specific to certain herbs. It didn’t mean that herbs from elsewhere weren’t sold down in the bazaar, but their foods just didn’t use spices in the way hers did. She calmly poured the mixture in while giving him a glance as he stood there at the ready, watching her motions. With the pestle she scraped out the mortar and then banged it on the edge of the pot; looking back to it.

“It is a wonderful spice” she added to his assertion that he had never heard of it. “We call it the lady of spices; it is like a breath of fresh air in aroma, like mint or fennel. It smells like honey mixed with floral tea. It’s flavor it somewhat like pine needles hah...but you don’t eat it, it’s mostly to add aroma, and aroma tricks your mind into thinking it is flavor. You’ll see...” Elann nodded, figuring that explained it the best she could manage and she shrugged. She then took the sugar and poured a small amount in. The pot wasn’t huge, it was probably enough of mixture to make five or six small teacups worth of the milky brown substance, although in reality it would end up being only about four cups due to the grounds and spices at the bottom of the mix.

Now that the sugar was in she gave it all a stir, letting the heat get to it. “Now we want to make sure that we don’t let it boil. Boiling is bad.” She said playfully. “We want to let it come to a slight simmer...and we do that about three times, taking it off the heat each time.” She nodded and watched it. “Tell me when you see it simmer.” He had a better perspective and had the watchful eyes of a predator anyways, so she relied on his attention to let her know when to pull up the pot with the crank. She too kept her eye on it, for the swirling of milk indicating the mixture was about to simmer, though she gave him the opportunity to catch it first.

If he was able to catch it she would use the crank to pull it up from the fire and the heat, then she would stir it. She would do this two more times, each time in progression added a nice thick layer on the top. The coffee smelled strong and yet sweet, aromatic, and as if it was almost a dessert all at the same time. By the time the coffee was done she would take it from the hearth and set it down on the stone. With care she would take the dried cups to the table and their accompanying spoons. She looked to him and asked, “Are you ready to try it? You can tell me if you don’t really like it...It’s okay. I prefer my tea and coffee with nothing in it, but I just thought you might like to try something from my home.” She really didn’t care either way if he liked it or not, she enjoyed it and would drink it. The foam that was on the top was a nice creamy almost caramelized layer of coffee, sweet and not something many people around here were used to with their bland foods. Because she let it sit for a little bit on the stone, the grounds and spices sunk to the bottom, and if he was ready she would scoop some out into his cup with care not to spill it, then would put some in hers. Elann eventually rejoined him to drink her cup of it after returning the pot to the hearth.

Other's Words ~~ My Words ~~ My Thoughts

[Noah Amuel]

Noah wiggled his nose as the cardamom chunks broke apart and erupted with an aroma that was completely foreign to him. At first it was a little overwhelming, the new smell something never smelled before in his time in Syliras. He assumed that it was found somewhere within this city if Elann had it though. Perhaps in the Bazaar where exotic goods were commonly seen. Did cardamom count as exotic? he wondered.

The thud of the mortar against the pot brought his attention to the warming contents inside. Elann began to explain cardamom’s use in her culture. He thought it was interesting that smell could trick the human mind into thinking a food or drink tasted better just because it smelled pleasant. He wasn’t sure if he ever fell victim to smell enhancing his taste and didn’t think of all the time smell contributed to taste until now. He thought now that if Elann’s people used smell to enhance taste, did their food really taste good? He didn’t know, and probably wouldn’t know until Benshiran food was explicitly prepared for him. For now, he’d stick to raw meals and porridge.

He stepped forward some to look into the pot better. The white mixture was beginning simmering, waving like an ocean’s shallow tide as the heat passed through it. The green powder that was the cardamom took place within the mixture and began to speckle the light brown liquid with dots of green. The mixture looked festive, according to Noah. Although the pot didn’t contain much, he assumed that it would be enough for Elann and him to drink comfortably.

Elann retook the wooden spoon that rested inside the pot and began to stir the mixture again. It swirled and swirled and Noah’s attentive eyes followed the swirls and watched as the green dots that were cardamom were taken into the swirl, disappeared only to reappear elsewhere within the pot before they were sucked down into the swirl again.

The Benshira informed him that boiling was bad and that simmering was good and that they had to remove the mixture from the heat to avoid boiling once a simmer began in full. Noah nodded at her instructions, telling him to tell her when a simmer was seen. Noah had seen boiling water and knew what came before that so when the mixture began to kick up in its volatility he called for her to remove the pot from the heat.

“Simmer,” he would say two more times when Elann reintroduced the pot to the flames and each time she would crank the pot up, removing it from the heat-filled interaction. There was some intensity in this: her entrusting Noah to call for the pot to be removed from the flames before the mixture came to a boil. Noah treated it as a game and was amused each time that he caught the mixture at its simmer before boil. Each time Elann lowered the pot Noah could see a layer of goodness cover the mixture and wave with the simmering.

Finally, after the third and final retraction from the flames, did Elann remove the pot from the hearth and set it on the stone. The aroma that wafted towards Noah in this action made his mouth water. The smell was enticing and inviting, urging him on. Noah nodded at Elann’s question, asking if he was ready to try the coffee and indeed he was. “Yes,” he added to his nod, just in case she could not see it.

He watched with an eager eye as Elann carefully went about grabbing the now dry cups that were to serve as their containers for the coffee. She allowed the mixture in the pot to rest and Noah assumed it was to allow the grounds, undissolved sugar, and cardamom to sink to the bottom so that they did not consume any of it with their sweet, brown liquid. Noah took his cup from Elann after she filled it and brought it to his nose where he inhaled deeply. It was in that moment that the foam from the coffee caught onto the tip of his nose and left him wiggling it in discomfort and silliness. He brushed the foam from his nose and went to retake his seat on the comfy chair.

Once there, he set his cup down on the coffee table as the heat radiated from the liquid, through the cup, and into his hands. He was very ready to drink it, but the heat proved to be too much for him to bear at the moment. He waited for Elann to retake her spot on the couch too and muttered a thank you. “I appreciate the drink,” Noah said as he eyed her and then the cup in front of him.

It took a moment for his courage to reappear and allow him to take the cup and bring it to his mouth. He tilted the cup back. The foam that topped the coffee pressed against his upper lip and the space below his nose and the liquid flowed between his lips, onto his tongue, and filled his mouth with a sweetness that made his eyes open wide. He set the cup down, licked the foam from his philtrum, and swallowed. “Mmm!” he exclaimed. “That’s good!” He smiled and quickly retook the cup in his hands and took another drag of the still hot liquid. When he emerged from behind his cup its contents were half drained and foam stuck to his face forming a moustache of sorts. “My father never had good coffee like this. I like this.”

[Elann]

.

Elann could hardly contain her entertained mirth at how with deadly eyes he minded the simmering. He was like an owl, watching over the darkness for any sign of movement she deduced. Maybe he was a turtle kelvic? No it would not make sense with how energetic he was. Ultimately the woman figured it was best not to guess and just waited for his words, which weren’t “It’s starting to simmer” but rather just a singular word. She bit her lip in silence and would raise it up each time he gave her warning.

She could see how this event sort of even made him more excited for the coffee than she was. It was like a horse rearing at the gate, ready to charge out with great speed. That made her feel good that she could provide something for him. It made her feel like her mom giving things to her father’s company that would come over and purchase rugs from them.

As she scooped out the mixture she could see that it was a nice golden color. Fortunately coffee was something you couldn’t really mess up on. While it wouldn’t be nearly as perfect as her mother’s coffee or a professional maker of it or their specialty teas, it was good. The bottom of her pot was burnt which was unknown to her, but it didn’t really affect the drink at all. She poured for him and kindly smiled at his manners, giggling softly as he decorated his nose with a light layer of the foam.

“You are welcome, yeah you have to watch out for that.”

As she poured the golden brown liquid into her own cup she saw him take the cup and usher over to the coffee table. She hadn’t gotten out the small plates with which they sat yet, nor did he take the mixing spoon, yet by the time she was done he had already managed to take a drink and was making all sorts of good sounds. Now that her drink was poured she headed over to the hutch to grab out two little teacup coasters and held out one to him. “Hold your cup by this. It’ll keep your hands from burning.”

Once he took the plate she nearly skipped over to the table, much more happy now that he had said it was good with such enthusiasm. To be honest she couldn’t wait to try it herself. Her hair bounced lightly as she skipped and shifted to the side as she came to a stop at the table. Scooping the plate under her own cup she came to join him on the couch. Two friends enjoyed a good cup of homemade coffee, now that was Benshiran, and it made her feel comfortable and somewhat more at home, if even for such a brief moment in time.

Other's Words ~~ My Words ~~ My Thoughts