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“I’ve got you covered,” Wren said. “Allergic to anything?”
“Grass. And cats,” Percy added.
Wren laughed. “Got it. Tea without grass or cats. Grab a table, yeah? I’ll be right there.”
Percy felt oddly reluctant to leave Wren’s side, but he did. He found a table in the corner of the room furthest away from the fountain so Wren wouldn’t have to struggle so much with the background noise.
He took a seat facing the room and watched Wren as he laughed and signed very slowly with the woman behind the counter. Percy felt a soft rush when he realized he recognized a lot of what Wren was saying, and he felt less bad about himself to see someone at his own beginner level.
Logically, he knew he wasn’t the only one around here that was so far behind, but he hated it. He hated not being able to fast-forward his skills just to make his niece’s life a little easier.
It didn’t take long for Wren to finish up at the counter, and he approached the table with two large cups filled with milky liquid, with big globs of something very dark at the bottom.
Wren handed the very pale one off to him, and Percy stared at it.
“It’s oolong,” Wren said, then peeled the paper off his massive straw, and with a hard stab, he shoved it through the sealed lid of the tea.
Percy copied him, then took a tentative sip. The tea was very sweet and very cold, and then he was choking because something squishy and large filled his mouth and slipped down his throat.
“Oh my God, please don’t die,” Wren said, leaning forward to slap him on the back of the shoulder. “You have to chew those.”
“Bloody hell,” Percy gasped. He caught his breath after a second. “What in the actual fuck?”
Wren was now laughing so hard tears were coming out of his eyes. “I almost just k-killed you with tea. Jesus Christ.”
Percy wanted to be annoyed, mostly because he was embarrassed, but Wren’s laughter was catching, and eventually, he covered his face and chuckled along. After a long beat, he grabbed a napkin and wiped drops of tea from the corner of his mouth.
“You’re like a baby giraffe learning to walk,” Wren said.
Percy’s eyes narrowed. “Thank you.”
Wren just grinned around his straw as he took another long drink, and Percy could see the gooey globs running through the plastic. “Just drink slower. And chew.”
Percy did, and he wasn’t overly fond of the texture, but the taste wasn’t awful. “I don’t know why people insist on needing to chew their drinks.”
“It’s not better than the Brits colonizing the entire world for spices and then having the audacity to serve plain baked chicken and boiled vegetables.”
Percy opened his mouth to defend himself but quickly shut it because yeah. That was fair. He smiled back and tried a few more sips. “This is actually quite nice. I don’t prefer it to coffee, but I’d have it again.”
“High praise. I’ll make sure the chef knows,” Wren said.
Percy flushed. “Please don’t?—”
Wren reached for him and closed his fingers around Percy’s wrist. “Hey. I’m joking.”
“I know,” Percy said but then stopped because he hadn’t known. He’d reacted on instinct and fear that Wren was suddenly going to humiliate him. “Sorr?—”
“Nope,” Wren interrupted. “I don’t know if it’s a British thing or a trauma thing, but when we’re hanging out, I’m gonna call your ass out for apologizing when you don’t need to.”
Percy clung to one single part of that sentence. “We’re going to be hanging out?”
Wren’s mouth opened, then closed. He signed something with his left hand, then sighed. “I should say no. I have rules.”
“But?” Percy asked.
Wren shrugged. “But I like you, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not welcome. Or that I’m avoiding you,” he seemed to add as an afterthought.
“So long as I’m not coming in to shout at you, right?” Percy asked with a small grin.
