❀ 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧[cismale]..[23 years old]..[demi/heterosexual]..[honey oat latte]..[location: his house]..[mentions: tag]..[tags: seon]..────────────────────────────────────────Was it weird to stand up against the doorframe as the stranger exited his sleek car? Was it creepy to watch from a distance? The guy had been pulling in until just about a second or two ago, so it wasn't like Avery could yet offer to help with his bags, though he was already preparing himself for that conversation. What to say without it sounding too forward... This had always been the worst part of getting a new roommate, and it really did not get any easier the more they came and went. Avery was truly envious of those who could hold a conversation together without having to sketch a mental list of what to say and what to avoid. His list, if it was real, would easily drape across the floor; his worry chart was equivalent in size to the visuals one made when picturing the long list of Naughty and Nice kids on Santa Claus' list. He found himself rubbing his index finger and thumb together as Seon slid closer to him. He had a friendly grin on his face, the type of smile that lit up his face with ease, and his accent caught Avery by surprise. Oddly enough, something ─ delight, he was fairly sure it was ─ bubbled inside of him that second his new roommate, as if Seon had filled that small homesick gap that had pushed its way into Avery's body after moving into Thistlewood. He had lived in Scotland for about five years, he recognized that accent immediately. He mirrored Seon's smile.
"Hey, mate," he greeted in return, tone light, airy.
"Yeah, that's me!" He leaned forward to grasp onto Seon's outstretched hand for a brief moment. He almost found it a bit amusing ─ two young men clearly not born here, housing together.
"I hope your trip over wasn't too bad. Rain's not coming down too hard but I know it can be a real bother to drive in." His chocolate brown eyes flitted past Seon's figure for a second, landing abruptly on the car behind him, whose appearance was rather shiny from the drizzling weather.
"D'you need help with your bags?"He then glanced back over his shoulder, mostly to check and see if the wind, which was gentle, but still present, had pushed his door open. Thankfully, it was still only open a slit. Maybe it was
that that was the worst part, and not the what-first-words-are-the-best-to-say situation. Avery didn't often feel judged ─ he felt he was fairly good at blocking that stuff out ─ but he never knew what they expected when walking through the door for the first time. Each and every room looked just like they did in the photos; he didn't tidy them only to take pictures then abandon them. The rooms were clean, things were storied away neatly and in an organized fashion. It was just... Bland. He sure hoped someone who made note of the "student" comment in the small description about himself didn't expect anything fancy; Avery didn't have that kind of money. Not before and certainly not now. He had a feeling Seon certainly wasn't going to be too nit-picky. He seemed fairly laid-back already, and Avery got the sense he was likely unbothered by a lot, in a good way. He had a good feeling about this, he really did. He could only hope the guy in front of him didn't have contradicting thoughts.
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♡ 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐚[cisfemale]..[21 years old]..[heterosexual]..[strawberry lemonade]..[location: starbucks]..[mentions: ivy]..[tags: open]..────────────────────────────────────────Morgan most certainly was not thrilled when rain began to tap-dance against her windshield. It wasn't pouring, spitting more than anything else, really, but rain was rain. Of course, she had fantasies about dancing in the rain, but when it came down to reality, she really wasn't a huge fan of getting soaked. Nor did she like driving in it, really, but thankfully, it wasn't nighttime, so although there were miserable grey clouds eating up the remains of what looked to once be a bright blue sky, it wasn't dark enough to make her feel anxious. She supposed she really didn't need her sunglasses now, though; she was pretty sure she had received a quizzing look from the man in the steel grey truck beside her at one point. With luck, it wouldn't be too chilly outside. She was wearing a black dress, and although the shirt under it had a base layer of white, it was striped and thick enough that if it got a bit damp from the drizzling weather, it wouldn't be noticeable. Her hair was also pulled back into a bun, and while it certainly wasn't a tight ballet bun, it was enough to lessen the frizziness her hair would encourage onto the top of her head. She really hoped it wasn't a cold, spine-shivering type of rain. Humid would work well enough.
Her phone chimed once again just as she drove past a sign with the exit number she needed to take. Once again, Morgan clicked the Bluetooth option to play the message aloud on her car's speaker. She gave a single nod as the monotonous voice finished speaking. This was a good start! Morgan didn't find she often had troubles making friends, or at least acquaintances, so she hoped this situation wouldn't be any different.
She was nearly silent as she finished her drive down, glancing occasionally in the rearview mirror of her car specifically to peer down at a sleeping Tigger. She had totally forgotten to check and see if this place was pet-friendly. She'd have to bring it up once she got there; maybe, as long as the girl didn't have allergies, she could make an exception if it had originally been no animals. Was that too greedy? If worst came to worst, Morgan would find a local pet-friendly hotel. She'd made it work.
Eventually, the Starbucks had come into view. It was down a cute street that was filled with blooming planters and hanging baskets; it reminded her of an old town, and she really wouldn't have been surprised if a horse-drawn carriage rounded a corner at any moment now. She frowned at the lack of parking, though, and with a slight pout, came to the conclusion that she was going to have to parallel park. Gosh, it had been a hot second since
that was necessary! Thankfully, she lucked out and was able to pull right into a marked parking spot along the side of the road.
"I'll be back very shortly," she promised Tigger. She turned on the little battery-run fan for him; she had been complaining about the rain before, but now she was grateful, for it wasn't hot at all, and she knew with the windows cracked a bit and a fan going, Tigger would be okay for a few minutes. She headed inside the cute coffee shop, choosing a table very close to the door and large windows, both for the purpose of having the ability to watch Tigger, and to meet the girl who was going to hopefully walk in at any second now. She wanted to buy her something, but she'd wait until she got to know what exactly it was she liked; Morgan
really didn't want to mess this up.
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐮𝐤𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐯[cismale]..[22 years old]..[bisexual]..[caffè mocha]..[location: the tiny mug]..[mentions: nyxalia, tags]..[tags: nathaniel]..────────────────────────────────────────Daniel's hands snaked down towards the pockets of his shorts and he stuck them into the fabric, rolling his shoulders backward as he rocked onto the heels of his white Nike runners. Ironically enough, despite the fact that he visited the small coffee shop often, Danny still found he gazed at the menu every single time he came in. Maybe it was just to avoid the possibility of appearing bold or too direct; he was much more straight to the point later on in the day, especially after coming off of a shift. When it came to customers, he actually did like the ones that came in, knew what they want, and went on their way, mostly because 1) where on
earth did he look while they were deciding what to order?, and 2) that just caused for more small-talk, and Danny wasn't a fan. He liked working, he really did, and his position as manager forced him to be more friendly towards those who came in and out, but every person who worked in customer service knew that more often than not, the smiley face put on across the counter wasn't as genuine as one would hope; he'd fallen into the working habit, where everything was overly polite and cheery ─ and yes, admittedly, a tad bit fake, too ─ just to satisfy everyone who came in for a purchase.
Almost everyone. His mind flashed back to Nyxalia.
Hot Chocolate Girl. Sure, the first few times he'd treated her just as he did every other customer, but then things advanced, at least on his end. Come to think of it, it really wasn't professional in the least bit, and he couldn't help but pray that it wouldn't affect his job. In his defense, it
had been after his shift was officially over; he just so happened to be the extra pair of helping hands while the trainee worked on handling cash at that moment. So it was fine... Right? It was almost a bit startling, how Danny realized at that moment how much his job meant to him. Yes, he complained about it endlessly, as one did when working, but losing that position would take a turn for the worse. He'd end up right back in the spot he had been so desperate to flee. Perhaps that was what was giving him these unsettled butterflies the more he thought about the potential consequences.
Lucky for him, the guy behind the counter piped up, which curved a jagged edge into his path of thoughts, steering it in a totally new direction.
"Uh." He'd been replaying what he was starting to wonder was an accident over and over again and hadn't actually been looking at the menu. Whoops.
"A medium iced coffee, please. And a plain croissant; warmed, if possible." He leaned his hip against the counter, fishing out his wallet, just as his phone went off again. Once more, that stupid smile had returned to Daniel's face.
Great, come join the group of girls I've given my number out to. I think there's room for one more;) he sent back. He glanced back up at Nathaniel.
"Make that two croissants and add a large hot chocolate if you can. Thanks, man."