He motions for her to follow him, leaving the pet show behind. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket, taking his time to walk down the street once he hits it.
Thankfully he's not wrong. It's off the path, quiet little cafe where no one cares, and the most they'll ask is a coffee order. He picks a booth in the back, away from the door, from the windows, from anyone else who could recognize her.
no subject
He motions for her to follow him, leaving the pet show behind. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket, taking his time to walk down the street once he hits it.
Thankfully he's not wrong. It's off the path, quiet little cafe where no one cares, and the most they'll ask is a coffee order. He picks a booth in the back, away from the door, from the windows, from anyone else who could recognize her.
"You want a coffee?"