He could smell heaven. He didn't know that was possible. He disengaged from the irate councilmember and followed the smell to a timid redheaded staffer.
"Where's the coffee from?" he asked. She whirled around with a small squeak - normally he found the sound kind of cute, but right now it was interfering with his ability to go and buy heaven.
"U-uh...I think it was called - " she checked a white napkin covered in pen writing - "Harry and Mac's?"
"May I try some?" he asked, as politely as he knew how (which was pretty polite, he just didn't usually bother).
"...sure, I guess? Just don't drink too much," she bit her lip, and offered him the cup.
The closer it got to his face, the more confident he was that this was literally heaven in a cup. When he took a sip, he realized he'd been kidding himself. It was better than heaven. He sighed and all the various tensions the election cycle had raised in his bodies just...disappeared. He opened his eyes and the world looked bright and fucking beautiful, and he was ready to attack this job and subdue it to his will.
The girl was looking at him expectantly, hand still extended.
"Umm?"
He looked at her, and back at the coffee. Did he have to give it back? Yes. He probably did.
"Can I have that map?" he nodded to the napkin, with a rough sketch of where the cafe was.
"I'll trade you," she grinned, offering the map with one hand and leaving the other open and waiting. It was a funny little dance, neither wanting to yield the advantage.
The victory of a scribbled napkin felt hollow when the warmth of the coffee left his hand. It stayed in his mouth and belly much longer, though, so he supposed it was alright to yield this one, knowing he could buy heaven whenever he wanted, in the future.
Morning came and the thought that got him out of bed was getting some of that coffee. He found the place with little incident, but it was dark. Fear seized him. What if they'd closed down, never to open again? He parked and got out, trying to find some indication of life. The door was locked, and the hours were not encouraging.
Coffee was sold only between the hours of 1pm and 5pm. He wracked his brain. The staffer must have taken a late lunch, it was 1:30 or so when he tried her coffee. Rahm didn't really have time to drive this far for lunch, and his days already seemed to stretch infinitely past 5pm, but that was the earliest he could possibly leave. He cursed. What kind of coffee shop didn't open in mornings?
He'd have to figure something out. At least he'd have Saturdays. They didn't even have the decency to operate on Sundays.
+
I have GOT to study for my midterms tomorrow. But I will get back to this.
Rahm: Searching for Heaven [1/?]
"Where's the coffee from?" he asked. She whirled around with a small squeak - normally he found the sound kind of cute, but right now it was interfering with his ability to go and buy heaven.
"U-uh...I think it was called - " she checked a white napkin covered in pen writing - "Harry and Mac's?"
"May I try some?" he asked, as politely as he knew how (which was pretty polite, he just didn't usually bother).
"...sure, I guess? Just don't drink too much," she bit her lip, and offered him the cup.
The closer it got to his face, the more confident he was that this was literally heaven in a cup. When he took a sip, he realized he'd been kidding himself. It was better than heaven. He sighed and all the various tensions the election cycle had raised in his bodies just...disappeared. He opened his eyes and the world looked bright and fucking beautiful, and he was ready to attack this job and subdue it to his will.
The girl was looking at him expectantly, hand still extended.
"Umm?"
He looked at her, and back at the coffee. Did he have to give it back? Yes. He probably did.
"Can I have that map?" he nodded to the napkin, with a rough sketch of where the cafe was.
"I'll trade you," she grinned, offering the map with one hand and leaving the other open and waiting. It was a funny little dance, neither wanting to yield the advantage.
The victory of a scribbled napkin felt hollow when the warmth of the coffee left his hand. It stayed in his mouth and belly much longer, though, so he supposed it was alright to yield this one, knowing he could buy heaven whenever he wanted, in the future.
Morning came and the thought that got him out of bed was getting some of that coffee. He found the place with little incident, but it was dark. Fear seized him. What if they'd closed down, never to open again? He parked and got out, trying to find some indication of life. The door was locked, and the hours were not encouraging.
Coffee was sold only between the hours of 1pm and 5pm. He wracked his brain. The staffer must have taken a late lunch, it was 1:30 or so when he tried her coffee. Rahm didn't really have time to drive this far for lunch, and his days already seemed to stretch infinitely past 5pm, but that was the earliest he could possibly leave. He cursed. What kind of coffee shop didn't open in mornings?
He'd have to figure something out. At least he'd have Saturdays. They didn't even have the decency to operate on Sundays.
+
I have GOT to study for my midterms tomorrow. But I will get back to this.