I’ve come to the capital to take care of some business. Yumiela is with me.
During my free time, I decided to take a break at a coffee shop that caught my eye.
From the moment I entered the store, I knew it was a stylish coffee shop—the type Yumiela hated.
Being born and raised in Ashbaton, where practicality is a strong priority, I was surprised by the capital’s unique values. While I still haven’t got used to them, Yumiela has an even harder time with them.
She seemed to realize she had entered a place she wasn’t comfortable with. Yumiela gently pinched my sleeve and looked around anxiously.
Yumiela is not afraid to go through the dungeon’s depths with light steps, and Yumiela is nervous in an unfamiliar place. They are like different people.
This is also why I have fallen helplessly in love with Yumiela. Her thoughts and actions are outside the norm, but every once in a while, she reacts in a way that is typical of a girl of her age. That difference is unbearably endearing.
Although we entered the establishment without any idea of what to expect, it was worth the visit just to see the rare Yumiela.
The standby waiter showed us to our seats. She must have recognised Yumiela by her black hair, but she didn’t change her expression.
While walking, Yumiela whispered in my ear as she had already taken her hands off my sleeves.
“Be careful, Patrick. This might not be a restaurant, but a place for a pancake shoot.”
I didn’t know what it meant. But I did like the idea of a pancake shoot. I sat down at the two-seater table I was led to, thinking about asking what a photo shoot meant later.
The waiter opened the leather-covered menu, pointing to the strings of words at the top.
“How about this limited-edition drink for couples? We started serving it a few months ago, and it’s now our most popular item.”
Well then, I’ll have that one.”
The decision was made without too much thought. The waiter wouldn’t recommend anything strange, and I’m interested in the couple-only thing. Yumiela nodded in silence.
After the waiter is out of sight, she sits across from me and tilts her head.
“What’s the couple-only drink?”
“I don’t know. Isn’t that two sets of drinks?”
“We don’t even know if it’s warm or cold. Which one do you prefer, Patrick? I like cold drinks.”
“I like warm drinks.”
No matter the price of the couples-only drink, it was clear that one of us wasn’t going to get what we wanted.
My tastes and Yumiela’s tastes are so different. There were many times when our tastes were so different that I wondered if they could be so neatly divided. The thought of being together forever makes me a little uneasy.
On the other hand, I can’t think of much in common. We are both good at fighting, but our fighting styles are completely different. Things are like that, and even if they seem to share something in common, they are different when you get down to it. I feel even more uneasy.
While waiting, Yumiela made a rectangle with her hands and peeked into it. She moved like an artist contemplating the angle of a landscape painting.
“Maybe this is the best angle to take the pancake picture.”
“Do you want me to order something extra if you’re hungry?”
“I’m not craving for pancakes, okay? Oh, the subtle Patrick in the background is the highlight.”
No idea whatsoever. It is probably something from her previous world, but I’m used to it by now.
If it were important, Yumiela would explain it in a way I could understand, so I suppose this is an unimportant conversation.
Soon after, the waiter appears. On a tray is a glass of orange juice. It is extravagant, with plenty of ice floating on top. The straw is also unusual.
Seeing this, Yumiela whispered.
“It seems so posh when a piece of fruit sticks in the glass.”
I think the ice and straws are much more expensive than the cut-up oranges from which the juice is made. When I tried to point out the subtle misalignment of her financial sense, my eyes were glued to the glass served to us.
We ordered drinks for two people, but only one glass came out. There were two straws.
Looking at the intertwined straws, I finally understand what the couples-only drink is all about. The real product is simple enough, but the inspiration of the person who invented it is worthy of respect.
After the waiter said, “Take your time,” Yumiela sighed.
“‘Ha, this kind of thing. It’s too common.”
“This is my first time seeing one.”
“I’ve never seen one in person, but I’ll give… a little taste.”
Yumiela sucks on the straw.
Do I drink this now, too? The straw sticking out toward Yumiela and me was only long enough to extend slightly beyond the circumference of the glass. Our faces were inevitably close together—
Slurp! Sluurp!
The ungraceful sound spoils the quiet and sweet atmosphere of the establishment.
The couples-only drink, which should have been orange, had become translucent with glass and ice.
“…Isn’t that too little?”
She drank everything instantly, and without a hint of apology, she said so. The waiter, who had not moved an eyebrow when he saw Yumiela, looked at her wide-eyed.
Yumiela looks around the establishment, spots the waiter, and raises her hand lightly.
“Excuse me, I’d like another one of this, please.”
She had asked for more; Yumiela must want to redo it.
Thinking that what had happened was a dream, I thought we would drink the next round together. But after the second drink arrived, Yumiela’s words shattered my heart.
“Sorry, I drank it all by myself. This is for Patrick.”
“You want me to drink alone?”
“Oh, aren’t you thirsty? Don’t worry, if you left some behind, I’ll finish it.”
Yumiela is determined not to fall for the schemes of the creator of the couples-only drink. And once she does, she’s a tough nut to crack. How will I finish this drink, which is clearly designed for two people, by myself?
Despite my disappointment, Yumiela repeatedly brushed her long black hair over her ears as if she was measuring her timing. Then, nervously, she put her mouth closer to the glass.
“I’ll stand by in case Patrick doesn’t finish.”
With that said, she puts the straw in her mouth. The amount of orange juice doesn’t change. She just holds the straw in her mouth, waiting.
That’s what this is about. I felt my face heat up all at once.
Cold orange juice is just right for my heated face. But since I said I prefer a hot drink, I’ll take my time and drink it slowly. Thinking that maybe Yumiela and I are just like each other in the way we make up strange reasons and express ourselves in a roundabout way, I brought my face closer to the straw.
They are adorkable xD
Thx for the chapter!
Really nice Patrick xD