Arioch walks into a cozy bookish cafe, a wide framed hat shadowing his eyes and giving him an air of mystery. The scent of coffee, dusty books and overly sweet confectioneries moved through the air. A barista, stood behind the counter making drinks. He scanned the room when the familiar scent came floating through the room, the scent of clary sage, fresh lemon and woodsy frankincense. Arioch knew who he was looking for, and he found him, with a pen to his lips and his eyes on a laptop.
He turned his back to the rich umber skinned man. He leaned over the counter. "I will have an Americano with a double shot of espresso," he said to the barista.
He turned around, only to dump, his face first into that bright smile. "Oh, sorry," he said with deep eyes and thick, heart shaped lips.
