#{ apparently I decided I needed to make this dramatic gfgkvydkgfg }

[aaetherius]

@cxffexngel​

☀ for one muse to surprise the other with a home-cooked meal - modern AU or normal, but nonetheless Sandalphon gotta surprice this man with a delicious course of home made food!

Soft Prompts || Accepting (feel free to turn into threads)!

                                                           ★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ―☼ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯

      The scent of coffee persists within the shop well past closing time, and long after he’s already scrubbed down the machines and finished resorting various ingredients back into their proper place after they had gotten jostled around during the busier hours of the morning and late afternoon. And, yet, he never gets tired of it. Not even after a day of making various blends between the administrative tasks of owning the shop, and he’s lost count of the number of cups he’s had during the slower hours to pass the time - so, he can’t hope to know how many mugs he’s used or if the one currently cradled within his hands right now is his fifth or his third. The afternoon tends to blend into the evenings when he closes, and he can scarcely recall every little hiccup that had occurred today as he gingerly blows on the piping hot contents of his cup. The milky liquid swaying softly against his breath, revealing tiny crystals of sugar speckled throughout, and he smiles fondly as they vanish beneath the surface. Sandalphon would surely scoff at him if he knew he occasionally added sugar to the brews he drank when night had settled over the city. Perhaps he would be so bold as to tell him one day, or, perhaps, it would be more enjoyable to keep this fatal flaw of his a secret until the younger man stumbled upon him in the act one day. It’s a frivolous thought that’s unlike him, save for when it comes to the other.   

      The soles of his shoes drag slightly against the tile as sits down in the booth in the far corner of the cafe, fingers and cup coming to rest upon the recently cleaned table. The floor beneath his feet is slick from having been mopped only a moment ago - the mustard-yellow bucket still leaning against the door of the closest instead of being pushed back inside on its aged wheels that squeaked loudly in protest whenever he moved it. He takes a careful sip from the cup, allowing it to warm his tongue against the chill that licks at the windows from the winds that howl just outside. His palms feel warm against the mug despite the fact that the weather is getting colder and the days longer. And, he’s reminded, of one of the hiccups from earlier in the day as the coffee settles in his chest, and reminds him that he hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon - largely unintentional. The brand new seasonal drinks had come out this morning, and he had spent the better part of today and yesterday attempting to ensure that went over smoothly (and it never does - something is always missing or they sell out in less than hour because he’s terrible at accounting for the rush thanks to his own inexperience; the shop is still young and he’s still new to running it). Ah, he can still recall the look on Micheal’s face when she had found that out, though it was only half as amusing as the one Sandalphon made when he had overheard her scolding him before he had left the day. And he had the oddest expression when he had clocked out, and said good-bye, as if something was on his mind. 

       A shame they hadn’t closed together tonight or he would have asked him about it. Instead, his finger traces the rim of his cup as he mulls over the day’s chaos until his thoughts are promptly cut off by the soft buzz of his phone where it’s tucked in the pocket of the apron he’s still wearing despite the fact that the shop had closed an hour ago. Slender fingers lift from the cup to check his messages, and his eyes seem to shine when he notices the name - he has a habit of giving his number out to everyone who works at the shop in the event an emergency unfolds while he’s away, but his lips still tug upwards into a sincere smile when Sandalphon’s name comes across the screen. He pulls the sleeves of his sweater down over his fingers for a moment to warm them up before he goes to unlock his phone. And, yet, the chance to do so doesn’t come - his attention pulled away by the sound of footsteps right beyond the door. Phone is shoved back into his pocket, and his gaze flickers over the large windows that compose most of the front of the building. 

        Sliding out from the booth, he makes his way over to the door - the bright, flaxen lights that illuminate the shop have been dulled, but not turned off entirely. Enough so that when he ventures close enough he can see a familiar bed of messy, brown hair just beyond the window and surprise seeps into his features as his pace quickens - fumbling a bit with the lock before he pulls the door open. And the blast of frigid air that mingles with the warmth of the cafe nearly manages to steal his breath away as he greets the other with utter stupor as a pleasant scents mixes in with the wind that tickles his skin as it spills inside. “Sandalphon, is everything all right? Did you leave something behind?” Confusion is apparent upon his features, and concern slips into his voice when he speaks. There’s a thousand questions he wants to ask the other - why had he come back, his shift had ended some time ago, and what did he have in that box he was holding, but he swallowed them when he felt just how frigid it was. Quickly, he retreats inside a bit, keeping the door open to give the other room. His expression easing into something softer, even if his worry is still written plainly across his smooth features. “It’s cold, come inside.” Not to mention the fact that it’s late, as well. The text message he hadn’t read before he had heard the other outside is almost entirely forgotten despite how heavy his phone suddenly feels in his pocket. And his stomach nearly groans at the smell coming from that box, but he does his best to ignore it as he’s reminded, once more, that he hasn’t eaten anything in a solid day, and the only thing he’s had to drink in that same time has been various blends of coffee. “I’ll brew you a cup of coffee to help warm you up. While I’m grateful to have this chance to see you again, is there a reason you’ve come back? Perhaps I can help you.” He’s quick to offer under the assumption Sandalphon might have lost something in the shop earlier.