"B-black c-c-coffee. No, th-that'll b-be all."
Carrying a cup of bitter black in his gloved hands, Thao glanced around Ashby Coffeehouse for a quiet and discrete place to have a conversation away from prying ears. At 5:30 pm, the Coffeehouse wasn't especially drawing in the crowds. The few customers left at this hour kept to themselves, sipping their lattes and mochas while they parsed through a volume of Proust or a tapped away at a manuscript or other. By his reckoning, no one to pay mind to another two patrons shooting the breeze.
The Chirurgeon saw a couple leave a table in the remote corner of room and quickly claimed the spot (after wiping away the muffin crumbs and a few errant drops of spilled coffee.) He checked once more over his watch. It was the right time and he had messaged the other Autumnal Courtier half an hour prior just to make sure the Darkling wasn't going to blow him off. As he waited, Thao once again asked himself whether this was going too far.
Beland's been run ragged this entire month. Missed a few nights an' pulled all his sick days an' he's only gettin' worse. Ah know he's sufferin' from depression an' takin' so much Glamour offa him can't be healthy. Ah haven't heard o' anythin' comin' outta his 'proposal' t' Callagher, so he's no threat t' mah job. So why am Ah doin' this?
He took a sip of his coffee and watched the steam rise. It's cause Ah like it. Ah like doin' this sorta shit t' him. Christ. Either way, here Thao was. Waiting for a Darkling to come by to help him commit a major violation of personal privacy. Fun stuff.