I was supposed to chill out, and enjoy my day off. Instead, I was digging my head in my cupboard, just like a squirrel who digs in for food.
Too formal made me look like I was about to testify in court. Too casual made me look like I'd stepped out to buy milk and accidentally agreed to a date. I changed twice, then a third time purely out of frustration, before settling on something that didn't make me look homeless.
It was just coffee.
I was calm.
So many lies I told myself this morning. Wow Elara. Impressive.
My phone buzzed.
Adrian: Outside.
Of course he was on time. Men like him always were. Disgusting.
I spotted his car across the street and walked over, pretending my heartbeat wasn't auditioning for a drum solo. It wasn't a big deal after all, just a coffee right? He smiled when he saw me- easy, unforced, like we hadn't known each other for barely twenty-four hours. And that smile turned my stomach upside down.
Calm down, it's just coffee. What if he just turns out to be an asshole like others?
"You look...different."
"In a good way? Or in a I'm so disappointed with you way?"
"You look pretty. I mean you always were. I mean, you look extra pretty today but not like in a-"
"Thank you."
Why did things have to be so awkward? I guess I needed some more fake bodyguards for the unfiltered-ness. I mean, I could take down two massive grown men, and couldn't handle compliments. God.
None of us spoke in the car, and when we reached, I was astonished.
The café was small and warm, the kind that smelled like roasted beans. Wooden tables. Soft music. People who looked like they belonged there.
We ordered. He paid before I could protest.
"I'm gonna fight you," I warned.
"Not today," he said calmly. "I'm well aware of your capabilities, and I really don't wanna get my tooth broken."
I chuckled. True that.
We sat by the window, sunlight spilling across the table. For a moment, neither of us spoke. It wasn't awkward. Just… quiet.
"So," he said eventually, stirring his coffee, "forensics."
I groaned. "You picked the wrong topic."
"I heard you got promoted."
I blinked. "Thats been my new confidence source these days."
"You don't look like someone stuck doing the same thing anymore, You're more keen now." he said. "There's a shift."
I hated how right he was.
"It's… different now," I admitted. "Fieldwork. High-profile cases. Less microscopes, more mess."
He smiled slightly. "Sounds like you."
I narrowed my eyes. "You don't know me that well."
"Not yet."
That yet landed heavier than it should've.
He talked about his work- mass media, management, controlling chaos on a large scale. Obviously, the rich like crazy CEO sitting with a broke ass forensic scientist. He chose his words carefully, like they mattered more than most people realised. I noticed. Stored it away.
"What about you?" I asked. "You always honk like traffic personally insulted you."
He smirked. "Only when I'm impatient."
"And what makes you impatient?"
"You don't wanna know."
My fingers curled a little tighter around my cup.
Interesting.
Coffee turned into a walk.
The walk turned into wandering.
The streets buzzed with people. We passed bookstores, bakeries that smelled of delicious food from miles, people playing music- ruining classics actually. No idea what was wrong with them. The city streets were vibrant, and showed something which the marketing centre didn't show. They were...lively. Yeah I agree the Germans were a pain in the ass, just like the one beside me, but the kids laughed and street vendors screamed on top of their lungs to sell their not so delicious delicacies.
Yeah. Wierd sauces, and names that sounded like you definitely can't swallow them in. The smell alone was an argument.
I slowed.
Adrian noticed.
"Don't," I warned.
"Don't what?"
"Turn me into a German food believer."
He looked genuinely offended. "You live here."
"I work here. Survival is different."
He guided me- politely- toward the first stand.
"It's a Bratwurst."
Thick, browned, tucked into crusty bread, mustard gleaming with arrogance.
"One bite, and if you regret it, I'm going to turn to a non-german food believer. Promise." he said.
I took one.
And immediately regretted every hateful thought I'd ever had about this country.
"Oh no," I muttered. "This is good."
He smiled like he'd won something.
Then came Currywurst, chopped sausage drowned in spiced tomato sauce.
"Why is it spicy?" I asked, eyes watering.
"It's Germany baby! Every flavour tickles you up! Come let's try more"
He grabbed my hand and took me to every stall, as if he would make me eat every German food today.
"Kartoffelpuffer"
"Carton what?"
"It's a crispy potato pancake"
It tasted like warmth and comfort.I was absolutely regretting my stand against German food I swear. I ate standing on the sidewalk, grease on my fingers, dignity nowhere to be found.
"This is unfair," I said. "Why didn't anyone tell me German food tastes like comfort and happiness?"
He tore a piece from a massive pretzel and handed it to me.
"You just weren't introduced properly."
We shared food. Laughed too easily. Walked too close without acknowledging it. Somewhere between mustard and laughter, I realised something unsettling.
I was relaxed.
"I just met you yesterday," I said suddenly, licking salt off my thumb, "and it already feels like we've known each other forever."
He stopped walking. Turned to look at me properly.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I was thinking that too."
That should've scared me.
Instead, I smiled.
The rest of the day slipped by gently.
We sat on steps, watched people argue in languages I didn't understand, talked about nothing important and everything else. He never pushed. I never hid- but I didn't reveal either.
When evening crept in, he drove me home. City lights blurred past the window. I didn't invite him in. He didn't ask.
That restraint felt louder than a kiss.
Later, lying in bed, my new access badge resting on the nightstand, one thought wouldn't let go:
I just met him yesterday.
And somehow, he already mattered.
That scared me more than any case I'd been assigned.