The café was beginning to fill with more students and faculty as the morning wore on, but Daisy and Ferdinand seemed blissfully unaware of the time slipping by. The sunlight that had streamed through the window earlier had shifted, casting long shadows inside the cozy space. It wasn't quite noon yet, but there was a sense of anticipation hanging in the air, as if this breakfast was the beginning of something important.
Ferdinand leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed yet alert, his eyes fixed on Daisy with quiet curiosity. She seemed more at ease now, the awkward tension from their initial meeting dissipating as they exchanged small talk. For Daisy, the proximity to Ferdinand was exhilarating, but also unnerving, as she struggled to keep her thoughts in check.
She twirled a strand of her hair absentmindedly as they talked, a small, nervous habit that didn't escape Ferdinand's notice. Every now and then, their gazes would meet, and Daisy would quickly look away, flustered by the intensity of his calm demeanor.
"So," Ferdinand said, breaking the silence that had briefly settled over their table. "What would you like for breakfast?"
Daisy blinked, caught off guard. She hadn't given much thought to food, her mind too occupied with how surreal this whole situation felt. But now, with the gentle rumble of hunger reminding her, she realized she hadn't eaten since the previous night.
"Uh, I'm not sure," she admitted, glancing at the menu lying between them. "Maybe something light. A croissant, or eggs, or... I don't know, what do you usually have?"
Ferdinand smiled, a small curve of his lips that sent an odd flutter through Daisy's stomach. "I'm flexible," he said, leaning forward to pick up the menu, scanning it with the same quiet deliberation he seemed to bring to everything. "Let's go with something simple."
Before Daisy could respond, the waiter approached, a young man with a notepad in hand. "Ready to order?" he asked, flashing a polite smile.
Ferdinand glanced at Daisy, raising his brow slightly as if to say, *It's your call.* Daisy quickly skimmed the menu in front of her, feeling the pressure of the moment.
"I'll have the breakfast platter," she finally said, her voice steadying. "With eggs and toast. Oh, and coffee, please."
The waiter jotted down her order, and before he could turn to Ferdinand, Ferdinand's voice cut in smoothly. "I'll have the same," he said, casting a glance at Daisy. "Whatever the ma'am says, I'll have the same too."
Daisy's cheeks flushed slightly at his words, her heart doing a little flip. There was something about the way he said it—so casually, yet with a hint of deference—that made her feel... seen, almost respected in a way she wasn't used to. She smiled, giving him a quick nod of appreciation before the waiter retreated with their order.
As they waited for the food to arrive, the conversation between them began to flow more naturally. It started with small, simple questions—about classes, the university, the professors. Ferdinand was an excellent listener, his attention never wavering from her as she spoke, and Daisy found herself becoming more and more animated as the minutes ticked by. She talked about her favorite books, the ones she'd read over and over again, and about how she liked to spend her mornings in the library, lost in the comfort of silence and pages.
Ferdinand listened intently, occasionally nodding or offering a quiet comment. He wasn't one for excessive words, but when he did speak, it felt thoughtful, intentional. It was as if he were carefully weighing each response, making sure it added something meaningful to the conversation.
The food arrived shortly after, and Daisy, in her excitement, dug in without much hesitation. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until the smell of freshly cooked eggs and buttered toast hit her senses. She took a bite, savoring the taste, before launching into another anecdote about a professor who had once called her out in class for daydreaming.
Meanwhile, Ferdinand took a more measured approach. He ate slowly, methodically, his movements deliberate as he cut small bites of his food. There was an ease about him that was almost calming, as if he had all the time in the world and no rush to finish. Yet, beneath the surface of his outward calmness, there was something else—a subtle but sharp awareness, like he was observing everything.
What Daisy didn't know was that under the table, Ferdinand had discreetly pulled out his journal. It was a small, black notebook, worn from use, that he often carried with him. Resting it on his lap, he scribbled down notes in his nearly indecipherable handwriting, all while appearing to be engrossed in their conversation. He was careful not to be obvious, only glancing down occasionally to jot something down as Daisy chattered on about her likes and dislikes.
"I just can't stand mushrooms," Daisy said at one point, scrunching her nose in distaste as she recounted a story about an unfortunate dinner mishap. "I don't know why, but the texture freaks me out. Do you like mushrooms?"
Ferdinand paused, glancing down at his journal briefly before looking up at her. "Not particularly," he said, his tone even. "But I can tolerate them."
Daisy grinned. "You tolerate them? That's a weird way to put it."
Ferdinand shrugged, his lips twitching into a faint smile. "I find that they're not something to get passionate about, one way or the other."
Daisy laughed, and for the first time, it felt like the tension between them had completely dissolved. She continued to talk, her words tumbling out in a rapid, almost breathless stream. Her excitement seemed boundless, as she moved from one topic to the next, hardly stopping to breathe. And though she knew she should slow down, something about being around Ferdinand made her want to share everything with him, like he was a safe harbor for all the thoughts that had been bottled up inside her for so long.
Ferdinand, for his part, didn't seem to mind. He watched her with that same calm attentiveness, occasionally offering a comment or asking a question, but mostly letting her lead the conversation. And as the hours ticked by, it became clear to both of them that they were enjoying this strange, unexpected connection more than they had anticipated.
By the time Daisy looked at the clock again, it was already 3 PM. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she glanced over at Ferdinand, who seemed completely unbothered by the fact that they had been sitting there for hours.
"Oh my god, I can't believe it's this late!" she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. "We've been here for—what? Four hours?"
Ferdinand glanced at his watch, then back at her, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Time flies," he said simply. "You were quite... enthusiastic."
Daisy flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement coloring her cheeks. "I didn't realize I was talking that much," she admitted, feeling slightly self-conscious now. "You should've told me to stop. You barely got a word in!"
Ferdinand shook his head, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I didn't mind," he said, his voice soft but sincere. "I like listening."
That simple statement sent a warmth through Daisy's chest, and for a moment, she didn't know how to respond. She smiled instead, feeling a quiet sense of contentment settle over her. It wasn't often that she felt this comfortable around someone, especially someone she barely knew. But there was something about Ferdinand that made her feel at ease, like he understood her in a way that was rare and precious.
She glanced down at her empty plate, then back at him, her eyes catching the small notebook he had tucked back into his jacket pocket. She raised an eyebrow, curious. "What's that?" she asked, nodding toward his jacket.
Ferdinand hesitated for a moment before pulling the notebook out and setting it on the table between them. "Just a journal," he said, his voice nonchalant. "I like to take notes on things."
Daisy's eyes lit up with curiosity. "You were taking notes on me?" she asked, half-joking, half-intrigued.
Ferdinand didn't answer right away, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Something like that," he said, his tone teasing but gentle.
Daisy laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're something else, you know that?"
Ferdinand met her gaze, his eyes steady and calm. "Maybe," he said quietly. "But I think we both are."
The words hung between them, laden with meaning neither of them fully understood yet. But as they sat there, the sun slowly setting outside the window, both Daisy and Ferdinand knew that this day—this long, unexpected breakfast—had marked the beginning of something significant. Neither of them knew where it would lead, but for now, it was enough to sit there, sharing the quiet comfort of each other's company.
And for Daisy, in that moment, that was more than enough.