[ Unlikely experiences make for unlikely bonds. Claude Aubert, older than he looks and sharper than he suggests, is always anachronistic in the warm decor of the Midnight Grind— dark three-piece suits resting against soft wood, white gloves against pastel porcelains. He's a cut-and-paste figure in an otherwise harmonious space, all angles and corners to the cafe's rounded edges; yet he's somehow he's become something of a regular fixture.
He'd like to think of himself as an oddity. What's unfortunate is that he's become a welcome oddity.
When he pushes through the portal to their shared limbo today, Claude brings the tail end of Paris rain with him. He smells like smoke and watered-down iron, like old machines doused in an autumn thunderstorm; he's shaking the elements off of his damp jacket, combing his unruly bangs until they fall into appropriate chaos.
My usual, please, he's mouthing as he shuffles his shoes along the doormat. His thoughts are a jumble of expectation (it's been a while), annoyance (will those faction leaders ever be less irritating at our monthly functions), and relief (I expect Iona will be happy to make me taste her newest recipe), but they're all interrupted when he sees Someone occupying a spot that he usually reserves as his own.
He'd frown, but he's been "raised right". So he smiles, polite and refined.
(internally, he clicks his tongue.) ]
I see you've found the best seat in the house. [ okay this is still incredibly passagg, tho </small.]
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He'd like to think of himself as an oddity. What's unfortunate is that he's become a welcome oddity.
When he pushes through the portal to their shared limbo today, Claude brings the tail end of Paris rain with him. He smells like smoke and watered-down iron, like old machines doused in an autumn thunderstorm; he's shaking the elements off of his damp jacket, combing his unruly bangs until they fall into appropriate chaos.
My usual, please, he's mouthing as he shuffles his shoes along the doormat. His thoughts are a jumble of expectation (it's been a while), annoyance (will those faction leaders ever be less irritating at our monthly functions), and relief (I expect Iona will be happy to make me taste her newest recipe), but they're all interrupted when he sees Someone occupying a spot that he usually reserves as his own.
He'd frown, but he's been "raised right". So he smiles, polite and refined.
(internally, he clicks his tongue.) ]
I see you've found the best seat in the house. [ okay this is still incredibly passagg, tho </small.]