Page 51 of Sorry, We're Closed

Avory, laughing nervously at first, holds his hands under mine, as I give him a tour of every component that is included in brewing a coffee. How the roles have reversed from when Avory taught me guitar in a similar fashion, but with being shorter than Avory, I peer around him rather than over him. My arms hug the sides of his toned body, my head peeking around his bicep as I move his hand to grab the steel handle holding our ground up beans. I couldn't notice the smell of freshly ground beans like usual because Avory's seasoned cologne floods my nose, and it smells wonderful. He smells intoxicating, delicious, overwhelming, everything possible all at the same time.

“Hey teacher, want to focus on your subject, maybe?”

Avory peers over his shoulder so his ocean eyes meet mine, chuckling to himself as he bites his damn lip again. How long was I just standing here, taking all of him in for? How long is that image of his bitten lip planning to hang about in my mind? I shake my head to clear my thoughts and I lightly headbutt his bicep, kissing it better shortly after.

“Now press the ground down, but not too much pressure! You need to allow water to flow through the ground!”

Avory follows my instruction, lightly chuckling to himself and shaking his head with each one.

“Slide and twist the handle into the machine, and then press this button!”

I quickly slide my mug under the handle, and then the waterfall, or coffeefall, begins. The rich brown trickle with its golden tint fills the bottom of my mug, the aroma finally kicking in and overpowering Avory’s. He repeats the same sequence without my guidance, instead with my arms just resting around his waist and my hands tucking themselves in his hoodie pouch. Avory splashes the milk and syrup everywhere, but it’s finished, nonetheless. My hands follow the natural tension in Avory's arms once again, and I guide him to my silver jug for frothing milk. If I've learnt one thing about Avory and his punky nature, it's that doing something delicately is near impossible. Avory continuously pulls the steaming wand out of the milk when frothing, allowing milk to splatter all over the counters and across our arms. Avory’s rising and falling chest from his belting chuckle can be felt through his back, and it’s the most comforting feeling. I decide to finish the frothing before Avory floods the entire counter, and top off my coffee with the mug angled towards me, creating something similar to a fern leaf in the foam.

“Never again am I letting you use the milk wand.”

“That sounds vaguely dirty.”

I roll my eyes then laugh, a common occurrence with Avory it seems, and push myself up and onto the counter, my coffee balancing on the cake fridge and my legs dangling. Avory leans against the back counter and sips at his drink, his eyes locking onto me. I offer my glass out and towards Avory.

“Please correct me if I'm wrong, but cheers to our first date?”

I smile at the idea of a date, the two of us dating. If that’s even what we are doing right now? We sneak around kissing, touching, bonding, and I know I've thought of so much more with Avory, but I ponder over if he's reflecting the same emotions.

We tap our mug and glass together as Avory speaks, “To our first date. If you could have it anywhere, where would you want us to be right now?”

His glass clinks on the marble tops as he places it down and steps towards me, his boots echoing across the café with each step as his eyes focus on me. His hands slide under my knees as he pulls my legs up to hook around his hips, which I gladly accept. As my ankles cross and rest on his behind, my mind lightens at the reminder that a few weeks ago, I could have never imagined I'd be here with a man. I never even thought I'd ever be close toanyman again, and yet here I am, with my hand pushing Avory's full waves aside and behind his ear as my thumb grazes against the silken skin of his cheek.

Avory's hands travel to the small of my back as I express the one thing I’d love.

“I'd want to be in the audience.”

Avory's eyebrows raise as if to question my decision.

“While you're on stage with Marcus, as Bright Lights.”

Avory’s smile forms with such ease as he realises what I’d want.

“With how busy our schedule has gotten recently; we might just be able to make that possible.”

Avory's smile moves closer until it meets mine. His lips are warm and full and delicious, and I'd give anything to continue our talks and kisses and touches until the morning. Then the day after that. And the day after that.

Our mouths eventually separate, but his forehead rests against mine as I speak, my words coming out shakier than planned.

“If you get any busier then maybe you won’t have time for me,” I tease, yet the reality of it possibly happening begins to stab in my chest.

That familiar feeling of my only purpose being for some fun, something easy, returns and I try my best to hide it. I swallow the idea as much as I can, but my rapidly drying mouth isn't helping the situation.

“Or I sneak you around our shows in my guitar case and take you everywhere with me.”

My brows knit together as I question what on earth he is trying to get across.

“You know, because you're so petite?”

My mouth falls open as my hand slaps the middle of his chest. Avory's laugh bounces around the walls of the café, before his lips find mine once more in a fleeting moment of bliss.

“Oh yeah? Do you go sneaking all of your friends in your guitar cases?”

Crap. I don't mean friends. We definitelyaren'tfriends, we are so much more than that, but I don't know what. My mouth struggles to string actual words together in the form of an apology for my absolutely incorrect label of us, but Avory stills my mouth.

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