one rainy sunday morning‚‚

[pyrewick]

Adrian looked crisp. Crisper than was normal … for him. The light blue button down he wore was tucked into khaki cargos, which were half-concealed by the rich mocha of the apron he donned. In cursive were the words Maple Leaf Cafe embroidered, and he graciously smoothed his hands down the rigid material. It was his first day on the job. Adrian couldn't remember the last time he had actually had to wear a uniform – if you could even consider this one. At first he had thought it would be a dreadful endeavor, but now that he was eyeballing himself in the mirror in the employee’s lounge, he was beginning to think it wasn't as bad as it seemed. In fact, even Zeris would be a little impressed if he were here. That is to say that Zeris would even care what a human clothed his or her self in. Nevertheless, Adrian felt a marginal amount of pride in his newfound attire, and marched out of the room, took a deep breath, and emerged from the dark recesses of the back hallway.

It shocked him how long the line was. Then again, what else should he have expected? He remembered coming here in the mornings for coffee and Greek yogurt every day of the week before he graduated high school. Had he forgotten how packed this place could get already? Biting his bottom lip, he quickly walked to the cash register and took his first order. Then he took his second, a third – and just like that, his first hour at work turned into his fifth. It was time for his break. He walked through the double doors leading to the back, removing his apron and stashing it on one of the hooks in the lounge room. Stifling a yawn, Adrian quickly shuffled to his locker, opened it, and grabbed his lunch box. He went back out into the café and made a beeline for one of the empty booths next to the window. Sitting, he looked yearningly through the glass towards the barns, where he knew Zeris was probably sleeping peacefully. It wouldn't be too long now and he would be back with him.

Adrian’s stomach grumbled loudly, and he immediately forgot about his unicorn. He opened his lunch sac and pulled out the plain meal: a Granny Smith apple, PB&J sandwich on wheat, and a zip lock bag full of almonds (they were his favorite). He sat quietly for several minutes, munching tranquilly, not really looking at anyone or anything in particular. Being alone was what he was accustomed to – in fact, it’s what he preferred. But the café was a very busy place, full of prying eyes, curious hands, and inquiring mouths. He thought he would be easily overlooked, hunched over in his solemn little corner; insignificant as the pastel tones of the wallpaper, or Thomas Kinkade paintings adorning the walls. He hoped, silently, that he would stay that way.

He hoped he would stay secret.

[confetti]

"Thanks." Tyler said and smiled as the guy behind the counter handed her the large mocha she just paid for. She turned and sat down at one of the empty booths near the window. She sat her khaki green messenger bag on the floor against the seat and set her coffee on the table while she got out a pencil, her sketchbook, and a green apple to munch on. Flipping to an empty page, she took a swig of coffee and sighed contentedly. She really did love coffee, and it was the perfect thing to drink on a rainy day. Well. Aside from hot chocolate. Even though it was rainy, she was wearing some jeans and a purple tank top.

She started to sketch, taking periodic sips of coffee and bites of her apple. Summer Nights by Rascal Flats was playing in her head, and she was mouthing the words.

We went crazy cooped up all winter long
But school is out so let's get on
Flip flops, tans, and some white sand, I know the perfect spot.

She concentrated on her drawing, brows furrowed when she couldn't get something exactly right. When it came to drawing, she was quite the perfectionist. She hated it when she drew something with wobbly lines or horrible proportions. Soon though it started to take shape. It was a drawing of a tall, athletic Fjord mare in a lush pasture. But it wasn't actually a Fjord mare. It was a Fjord/Paso Fino cross, but she looked more like a Fjord than a Paso. And she was Tyler's own mare. Her name was She's Trouble, but her nickname was Jet. Now that the basic lines were over and done with, she stuck her pencil back in the messenger bag.

As she was getting out a pen to go over the drawing with, she recognized the man sitting a few booths in front of her, eating his lunch. She had seen him around the Saturn barn, but hadn't actually met him yet. She wanted to go over and say hi, but he looked like he wanted to be alone, so she just took the pen and went over the lines and added the details to Jet, namely, her horn. Tyler brushed some of her short brown hair behind her ear, happy that it stayed since it was like an inch above her shoulders.