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I took a step closer so we weren’t blocking the whole path. “No, what were you going to say?”
“It might be a little cruel to ask, but… do you wish you’d left sooner? Now that you have?”
I thought about it for a second, then admitted, “I don’t know. But… I don’t think there’s much point in regretting it. It’s done now. But I am glad that I’ve left.” I smiled up at him, feeling my cheeks grow warm. “I’m… I’m glad I decided to do it with you, Greid.”
He stared down at me, yellow eyes locked with mine, until a harried-looking demiurgus in a business suit bumped into his back as he strode past. Greid glanced around sheepishly, then nodded at the building behind me. “Just going to drop these off before we get coffee.”
I turned and saw that we’d stopped outside a small post office. “Oh, sure.”
Greid held the door open for me, his long arm stretching easily above my head, and I looked around as I entered. It was kind of dull, to be honest. A bland, dim space with a display of office and postage supplies for sale, and a row of counters with bored-looking attendants behind a few of them.
We didn’t really talk as we waited in the short queue, because it was quiet in here. When we finally reached the counter and Greid started talking to the attendant, I noticed that he was a lot more reserved and quietly composed than when he spoke to me. It made my insides warm with pleasure at the thought that he maybe felt comfortable around me, or was starting to, and was his real self when we were alone.
He’d said the suit was like his armour when he went out, which I understood. I doubted there were many people in the world who acted exactly the same in public as they did in the privacy of their own home. I liked seeing both sides of him. It was like he’d let me in on a little secret.
Once he was done and the attendant had carelessly dumped the packages in a big bin behind her—which made Greid wince—we left the post office and walked a little bit further to the coffee place. DEEP BREW was written above the door in big blocky letters, and a little plaque by the window declared, “Proudly demiurgus-owned and operated”.
The line almost reached the door when we stepped inside, but I didn’t mind. It gave me time to examine every inch of the menu mounted on the wall behind the counter, as well as the big glass display case filled with pastries and other breakfast foods.
Greid stood slightly behind me as I tried to peer over tall demiurgus heads. The list of different drinks available was kind of overwhelming, and I didn’t want everyone to think I was some bumpkin if I got to the counter and just asked for “a coffee”.
“What’s your usual order?” Greid asked, ducking down a little because of all the noise. The espresso machines were loud as the baristas pumped out steam, and all the tables inside were filled with people talking or tapping away on laptops.
“Uh…” I glanced around to make sure no one was listening to us. “I’ve never had coffee.”
His yellow eyes filled with horrified sympathy, as if I’d just told him I was the victim of some heinous crime. Glancing up at the board, he ducked down a little more and stretched out a long arm to point.
“The drinks that are safe for humans are marked with a little H, see?”
I stared at the board, trying not to think about how close he was. The sweet smell of shade still clung to him. Somehow, I was already beginning to associate that scent with comfort. With freedom. My gaze shifted from the board to the little, green-tinted claw on his extended finger. It was short and slightly curved. I bet he gave amazing scalp massages with those.
When he dropped his hand, I blinked and quickly nodded. “Okay. Wait, why would some not be safe for humans?”
Greid shrugged, straightening back up and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I dunno. The ingredients or whatever? They’re just not. I’m not a human expert.”
I snorted, turning my attention back to the board. “Okay, so lattes are the milky ones right? I could happily go a long time without drinking milk.”
“Yeah.”
The line moved, so we shifted forward. Greid moved a touch closer to me when someone edged past him with a takeout cup in their hand. I stared hard at the board, pretending I wasn’t hyper aware of him.
Why am I hyper aware of him?
“How about a mocha?” he suddenly ducked down again to ask. “It’s hot chocolate with espresso. Still milky, but really good. And not super strong.”
“Okay, that sounds nice.”
“Or you can get more than one,” he added quickly. “If you want to try others as well.”
I chuckled. “I don’t think I should go too heavy on the caffeine after a lifetime without, right?”
“Ah, yeah. Probably not. Sometimes when I have too much coffee I get palpitations. And when you have two hearts, it’s pretty distracting.”
I laughed, glancing up at him. After a second he grinned down at me—a big, slightly rabid-looking grin thanks to all his sharp teeth—before a loud voice just in front made me jump.
“Are you trying to fuck me, Gorig?” The demiurgus ahead of us in the line was holding a phone to her ear, her long fingers topped with bright-purple painted claws. “Because I thought you made it very clear that you would rather be fucking that secretary of yours.”
Whirling around with a huff, she caught my eye and rolled hers. As a furious, muffled voice came from the phone, she pulled it away from her ear and told me, “Sorry, darling. My soon-to-be-ex bastard lifemate thinks he’s entitled to my art collection in the dissolution of our matehood.”
