Once the order slip had been given to one of the workers behind the counter, Serena had tended other customers while his was still in the process of being done. Every once in a while she glanced over at the crimson haired man to make sure he hasn’t moved away.
He was certainly someone unique. Out of all of the customers the blonde has seen over the time she had spent working—she never once saw him before. At least when it pertained to her shifts which weren’t always the most stable so chances were she had missed him. It was strange though..he was probably the only guy she knew who had hair as long as he did. Especially liking something most people neglected to even notice. Or maybe he just liked simple things. Who knows.
A loud ring signified another order ready and it was exactly his. A complimentary treat was added next to his tea cup along with a small jar of honey and of course the spoon. Reaching his table, she placed the tray softly against the table making sure not to spill anything. “A small complimentary strawberry filled scone for you.” Her smile was once again gentle and kind. “Thank you and I am so sorry for the wait again.” She bowed her head gently. “Do you need anything else, mister?”
Time passed. The waitress had not yet returned with his tea. The wait was neither long nor grueling, but the way in which his mind wrestled with her presence made it appear so. He had come to enjoy her company, however brief. For someone so multifaceted, he was unsure whether or not his adulation was genuine or part of the script of being ‘normal.’ Her appearance was another quirk—vivacious yellow hair, like the sunshine curtained over a city whole and her eyes, able to carve out glaciers from seas unbounded.
Crossed legs and a thousand-yard stare display his contemplation. He keeps the pose until his order arrives. An unflappable Kurama gives his appreciation for the order while keeping his eyes on the lot of flowers. “…time is what we make of it,” he replies. The distance of his tone separates the two of them, despite being near one another. His voice carries an subversive current, one that carries more than one meaning. “So no worries.”
As if nothing had happened, he reaches for the scone and takes a very small bite. The reverie of strawberry marinates on his taste buds, rendering them caked with the flavor. Warm bread and creamy filling—the past hour was a mental rush unlike any other. He then reaches for his tea to wash it all down. Citrus and herbal mint carry the scones to his stomach, resonating with a dense pang. While he maintained a stoic approach, the edges of his lips would distort ever-so-slightly to indicate his satisfaction.
“…exemplary.” He neglected to answer her last question; the astonished glint in his eyes told it all.