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“Here's your coffee, miss. Miss?” Belle looked up, drawn back into her present surroundings by the man running the coffee cart. She’d been caught staring. Again. It wasn’t entirely her fault. That man, the man she saw on the corner every morning, wasn’t where he should be. So of course, Belle had to look for him. Belle pulled out two crumpled bills from the pocket of her jeans and handed them to the man. “Keep the change.” She muttered, already moving away to continue her search. She’d been passing this same corner on her way to work every morning for the past six months, but she’d only begun seeing this striking man the past couple weeks. Belle didn’t know where he came from or where he went, but she guessed he was homeless. He had terribly dirty dreadlocks and the most worn red kilt she’d ever seen. That wasn’t what drew her to him, though. There were a plethora of homeless people in Glasgow, you could find a group under almost every bridge. What drew Belle to this particular man was the look in his eyes. The way he sat on his corner screamed that he didn’t want anyone coming up to him offering handouts. From his angry posture to the fire in his brown eyes, he practically shouted ‘Go away’. So of course, Belle was drawn to him. She sighed as she took a small sip of her coffee, turning around to retrieve the forgotten sugar packet. She couldn’t even focus on things that should’ve been second nature by now. The only thought that was consuming her mind at the moment, was where the man could be. Winter was quickly approaching, promising all the sleet, sludge, and cold it always brought. Perhaps the man had gone to seek out somewhere that wasn't so darn cold. The kilt he was always wearing certainly didn't look exactly warm. Belle continued down the sidewalk, unconsciously dragging her feet. It was only a couple blocks to her office and Belle was in no hurry this morning. Just as she was preparing to turn down the side street that led to the building that housed Ever After Books, she paused, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet. Perhaps, she'd never see him again. Perhaps, he was just gone. Belle wasn't sure why that thought struck so much sadness into her stomach. She glanced down the street again, flicking her eyes towards the lone coffee cart, steaming gently into the morning. Something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. A flash of red. Belle gasped quietly, not daring to move lest she lose the flash, though some portion of her rational mind reminded her that she was far enough away for that not to matter. She latched onto the spot between two buildings where she'd seen the brief splash of color. Should she walk back? Would it be odd to walk back, to look for some man she didn't really know? Who was she kidding, she didn't know him at all. That made up her mind. Work forgotten, she turned back towards the coffee cart, her wirring mind already conjuring multiple ways she could approach him. She dismissed her first two plans, accidentally tripping, or merely walking up to him. She didn't want it to seem like she was using him. Her third idea actually had some merit. It was darn near freezing this morning, offering another human being a hot cup of coffee couldn't be taken poorly. Decision made, Belle walked faster, her footsteps ringing slightly against the hard cement. Reaching the coffee cart she saw surprise flit across the attendant's face. "Something wrong with your coffee, lass?"
"Oh no," Belle answered, "I just would like to purchase another one. A large." The man fixed her with a peculiar look but thankfully didn't say anything. Belle handed over the necessary money and took the offered coffee from the man. She stopped and stirred a little sugar into the new cup, relishing the warmth the cup was giving off. It was always so difficult guessing how someone took their coffee. The opportunities to mess it up were limitless. Belle didn't dwell too long on that, surely he'd appreciate something warm, and snapped the lid back on, she'd wasted enough time as it was. Turning away from the cart, she let her gaze slide between the two buildings, grinning when she saw another flash of red. He was still there, probably hiding to get out of the slight wind. She took two steps towards her destination when a gruff voice halted her advance. "Oye, Nosty! Please tell me ya got sum fuckin' shite on ya. I'm desperate." Belle paused, the nature of the conversation not exactly screaming friendly. She strained to pick up the words of the other voice, a lower pitched, rolling brogue."I told ya wankers I wasn't dealing today. I ain't got time to deal with your bollocks. Piss off." The first voice made a sound of protest before Belle heard hard footsteps slapping against the concrete towards her. With her hands full of coffee, she didn't have anything to look occupied with and merely chose to move closer to one of the buildings and look like she was waiting for someone. A second later, a man popped out of the shadows from between the buildings and quickly moved to cross the street, not sparing a glance for Belle, or anything else for that matter. He seemed, well, jittery, for lack of a better word. Belle glanced back towards the shadows, completely silent now, wondering if she could just, walk in there. She took a deep breath, counting down from ten. The practice had always helped her calm herself before she gathered what small bravery she could. Reaching one, she pulled her bravery around her like her coat and put one foot in front of the other. She'd just made it to the edge of the shadow when she looked up and found the man standing directly in front of her. She startled, nearly dropping both the coffees all over the floor. "Oh," she stammered, "Hi there." He was even more intriguing this close up. His eyes, while still firey, are a beautiful brown and something about them drags Belle in. His gaze flittered over her features, before trailing down her body, taking in her oversized coat and scarf and scuffed boots sticking out from beneath jeans. It felt like he was picking her apart but not in an uncomfortable way. Belle fell silent and felt the pause stretching between them like a line. The man, Nosty as his friend had referred to him, shifted on his feet, crossing his arms in front of him. Belle thrust out the larger coffee to him, keeping her own tucked safely against her chest. "It's quite cold today, and, I don't know, I always enjoy a warm beverage, and coffee is lovely, so I thought...maybe..." Her voice trailed off as the coffee remained, hovering in the air. Belle willed her arm to just stay still. The air between them stood, heavy in the silence. Belle smiled, hoping not to frighten the man away. Perhaps she should say something else, she could always fall back on her words. She opened her mouth, preparing to talk about the coffee blend or something, when an arm snaked out and curled around the offered cup. A real, brilliant smile split Belle's face. She let go of a breath she hadn't even known she was holding. "I hope it helps keep you warm." She chirped, wishing she could've at least brushed their hands during the exchange. She paused, where did that thought come from? She shook her head, not wanting to dwell while the man himself was still in front of her. Still smiling like a fool, she stood for another couple of seconds before turning slightly. "Well, I have to scurry off to work, but maybe I'll see you again! I've been seeing you around, well, not that I've been following you. I work down the street. Um, yes. Anyway, have a good day." She pivoted on her heel, blush spreading across her face, why did she have to ramble like an idiot. Why couldn't she simply keep her mouth shut? It didn't matter, she guessed, he'd taken the coffee! She felt elated, and didn't want to dwell on exactly why. Perhaps, tomorrow, she'd also bring a pastry. ---------------------------------------------------------------Nosty stood exactly where he'd been when the bird had walked up to him. Wow, she was beautiful. Nosty had never seen such a beautiful bird. She was small, but so was he. Beautiful chestnut curls framed a perfect face with blue eyes he knew would haunt him during his next hit. He also guessed that her body was fucking perfect. It didn't matter that it was hidden beneath a slew of winter coats, he was good at picking up on that sort of thing. He looked down at his hand, still clutching the steaming cup. She'd bought him a coffee. A fucking cup of coffee. For a guy she didn't even fucking know. He thanked someone that she hadn't shown up when fucking Dave had shown up looking for a handout. Nosty didn't do handouts. He looked down again at the coffee. He didn't even want to admit how nice the warmth felt, seeping into his hand. The bird had been right, it was fucking cold today. The coffee was just there. Taunting him with it's aroma and heat. Why should he drink it? He didn't need any help, certainly not from some wee bird. He hadn't even been able to say anything to her. He made his living off of words and he couldn't find any when faced with a pretty face. He was a fucking disgrace. He moved towards the trash can in the alley, getting ready to pitch the damned cup away and tross any feelings right along with it. At the last possible second, he stopped, holding the coffee as far as humanly possible away from him as he could. Why did this matter? It was a fucking cup of coffee. Something about those eyes, that smile. She'd bought him this. She didn't fucking know he was a fucking low class dealer and she bought him coffee. He slowly brought the coffee to his lips, halfway expecting it to reach out and bite him. He tilted the cup ever so slightly and let a small slip of the drink slide down his throat. Fuck. She'd even guessed how much sugar he liked. Not too much, not too little. And she said she hoped she'd see him again. Fuck.
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Nosty jerked awake, almost falling from his perch in the process. His dreams had been more vivid since the bird gave him the damned coffee but tonight’s had been the worst so far. He’d finally gotten her undressed, basking in her skin that was just as unblemished as he knew it would be. He’d even gotten her to breathe his name like it wasn’t a curse word, like it wasn’t something to be spat out in order to cleanse the mouth with the next word. She said his name like he was worthy of...something. Not love. Never love, but something. He sat up, nearly colliding with the rough stone of the bridge he’d been hiding under. He was fucking weak. It’d been three days since the bird had given him that fucking drink. It was just a drink. It probably cost a couple fucking pounds. Nothing to get excited about. The bird looked like she probably lost at least that much money on the way to her posh job every day. She’d said she worked somewhere around here. Here was a vaguely seedy part of Glasgow. Here was where fucking Dave had shown up every afternoon, calling out his name in increasingly higher pitches until Nosty had fucking snapped and thrown a rock at him yesterday. If he was smart, he wouldn’t come back. But Dave was an addict, and thus fucking stupid. Most addicts couldn’t help it. Nosty would know. He was one. Whoever the bird was, she deserved more than a fucked up shite head bloke who’d never known a proper home. He stood up, shaking morning dampness from his dreads. It was time to stop fucking hiding like a fucking school lad. He had worked too fucking hard to throw it away over some shite coffee. He’d go back to his usual spot and sell some poor jake some shite. He just needed some good clean exchange of funds, a complete screw over of some unsuspecting dobber. Then he’d be back. He’d be fucking back. He stumbled up onto the street. His boys would be asleep for another couple hours at least, plenty of time to get his shite together. Maybe tonight he’d even find some random bird to satisfy him. The boys always gave Nosty first pick. Maybe that’d get those blue eyes out of his dreams. -------------------------------------------------------Belle grabbed her coffee off of the little counter jutting out from the cart. She walked around to the other side where an assortment of creams and sugars were waiting for her. She unsnapped the lid feeling something heavy inside her unsnap with it. She’d only bought one coffee today. For the past three days she’d been buying two coffees, one medium for her, and one large for Nosty. She’d even been buying two warm blueberry muffins yesterday from her favorite bakery. She’d stood in the same spot she’d met Nosty the first time and accomplished nothing more than getting cold toes. It’d been three days. Three days. He’d just stopped showing up. Well no matter. She didn’t even know him. She could stop and buy herself her own blueberry muffin and maybe make it to work on time for the first time this week. She had a huge project to finish editing, one she hoped would move her name up the list of people looking for the senior editor promotion. She shouldn’t be here, dragging her feet towards the career she loved, because she couldn’t locate a man she’d spoken to once. The little bakery was lit up like Christmas in the early morning fog. Belle could see the owners of the store bustling around inside, preparing to serve their early morning customers. She pushed the door open and a wave of smell washed over her. “Morning lass! Ya here for yer muffins?” “Just one today.” Belle mumbled. The man gave her an odd look but placed one warm muffin into a small bag. Belle slid the required pounds towards his hand. She gripped the pastry smiling slightly at the smell. It would be delicious. Nosty would’ve...no...she wasn’t going to sit here and drag him through her thoughts because of a baked good. She thanked the man and backed out the door into the bitter cold. She had her breakfast, now she just had to get to work. The quickest way to her office was to continue up the block and loop around the office building ahead of her. The longer way was to retrace her steps by the coffee cart, which would take her past Nosty’s alley. Belle paused on the sidewalk. Her muffin was already losing its heat. She should just head towards her desk and lose herself in what was turning out to be an extraordinary manuscript. She glanced towards the coffee cart. She could just make out the steam from it’s roaster. It wasn’t too far out of the way. Maybe today would be the day. He’d be back. Belle knew she was being overly optimistic, the chances of stumbling across this man again were slim to none. Maybe he was even actively avoiding her, but something in her heart told her to walk by his alley just one more time. She passed the coffee cart, waving at the bewildered man inside. He’d seen her traipse up and down this particular stretch of street even throwing the coffee she’d just purchased into the bin. He probably thought she was crazy. She probably was. A biting wind whipped between the buildings causing Belle to shiver in her layers of winter attire. Maybe Nosty wasn’t avoiding her, maybe he was just seeking somewhere more warm. That made sense. It was positively freezing. Belle passed the cart and paused just before the space where she’d last seen, and spoken to, Nosty. She’d be disappointed if he wasn’t there, but that didn’t mean she’d never see him again. Right? The alley was silent. He wasn’t there. Belle picked up her food, tucking the muffin bag under her arm. It didn’t matter if it got squished. She didn’t mind. She’d almost completely passed the yawning gap between buildings when she heard it. A noise. A slight scuffle of shoe against concrete. She almost tripped over her own feet in her haste to turn around. Should she say something? Was it even Nosty? Screw it, she’d do the brave thing once more. “Nosty?” She called softly. An inhaled breath greeted her. A warmth spread through Belle. He hadn’t left. He was right here. He was safe. Belle moved further into the alley. Even though she couldn’t exactly see him, she knew he was there somewhere, tucked into the shadows. “What are ye doing here, lass? You shouldnae be here.” A rough voice greeted her. It was definitely Nosty. The confirmation send butterflies fluttering into her stomach. She glanced down at her hands. The one day she didn’t break down and buy him his own coffee and pastry would be the day he returned. She hummed to herself, she’d just give him hers. “Um…” Why was her voice shaking? “I just thought you’d like another coffee. It’s just as cold this morning and everyone knows that it’s no fun to be cold…” Again. Two seconds in this man’s presence and she was speaking like she had absolutely no grasp of the English language. Granted the Scottish slang was sometimes hard to navigate but it was English nonetheless. She took another step towards the shadows finally being able to make out the outline of Nosty’s figure. He was huddled back into the corner, yet leaning against the brick like he wasn’t cold. Sure he wasn’t cold. His legs were practically bare, worn socks peeking out from underneath his scuffed boots. Her eyes trailed upwards, a blush providing some much needed warmth to her cheeks. The kilt definitely wasn’t covering everything. Belle grabbed the now only slightly squished muffin from underneath her arm. “Here. I thought you might like something to pair with your coffee! I know if I have caffeine on an empty stomach, I get the worst aches.” She smiled brightly. Why wasn’t he doing anything?Slowly, Nosty stepped forward into the dim light that was fighting back towards them. He wasn’t a big man, that was certain, but neither was Belle a small woman. Nosty could definitely overpower her if things got out of hand, but somehow Belle knew he wouldn’t lay a hand on her. She held out the coffee and pastry as she had the other day, praying that he’d once again take her small offering of...something. Friendship? Simple kindness? Belle wasn’t sure, but if she didn’t try she’d never find out and she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. Even if said challenge was a slight Glaswegian with a questionable background and a heavy stare. A small smile crossed her lips. “Please? They’re for you.” At that Nosty finally stepped away from the wall, a sneer curling his lip. “Yer in the wrong place, bird.” Belle paused, drawing her hand back slightly, affronted that he was wearing his rough attitude around him like a shield. She’d seen the kindness in his eyes the last time they’d interacted. No matter what his life had done to him, Belle knew there was good in Nosty. She just knew. And besides, she’d been told on many occasion that she was an excellent judge of character. She thrust the coffee forward again, the paper bag holding the pastry swinging slightly. “I am in exactly the right place actually. I was looking for you. Here I got you coffee and a blueberry muffin.” He looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language. Belle held her ground, meeting his eyes unafraid. She was not about to back down when she had him so close in her grasp. She could see Nosty’s eyes flicker down to the goods she was offering and then up, pausing slightly at her lips. “Go ahead,” she said softly, as if he’d startle away. “I got them for you.” At this Nosty’s eyes snapped towards her, the kindness buried under a somewhat manic gleam. “Thank you bird, but I don’t take handouts.” Belle felt her face crumple. He’d taken the last coffee. Why was he being so mean? “Please, Nosty.” She started, knowing he’d walk away from her at any second. He had no reason to stay. “It’s so cold. I know how nice it’d be to have something warm.” Nosty just glared at her, having retreated back into the shadows to lean against the brick. Belle made a split second decision and set the coffee and bag down at his feet. “If you change your mind, they’ll be there.” She smiled at him again, hoping to share a little warmth through kindness. As rough as this man was, beneath all that, Belle could tell he was lonely. She backed out of the alleyway, not wanting to lose eye contact before the corner of the building hid him from sight. The cold stone of the building caught her as she sagged against it. She’d found him again. He hadn’t left, hadn’t been hurt, hadn’t be lost. There was hope. -------------------------------------------------------Nosty stared down at the cup and bag, willing it to simply catch on fire. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with it. The bird had come back. She’d come back looking for him. For his worthless, fucking self. He was pathetic. She didn’t need to bother with a lowly wanker like himself. She was so far above him it was funny. He wondered how she’d figured out his name. If she’d heard it on the streets somehow that meant she probably knew what he did for a living. The thought filled him with dread. Nosty was proud of what he did. He made a living for himself, but the idea that the wee bird had been asking the people he was around about him filled him with a completely foreign feeling. Fear. If he found out the bird had been hurt because she was traipsing after him? He didn’t want to rob the world of such a beautiful thing. He glanced up at the place where she’d just vanished and then back down at what she had left. She’d lied to him. It was as clear as the kindness on her features. She’d only gotten one coffee and pastry, for herself, and she’d given it to him. The thought made Nosty want to kick the cup as far as it would go and pick a fight with some bloody shite head who thought he was too good for the likes of him. But the bird had left this. She’d left it for him. He looked up and down the alley, making sure nobody was waiting in the shadows for a fucking deal or a fucking handout and then slowly bent down towards the coffee. Snatching the bag and cup, he hid back against the brick. The air had already cooled the coffee slightly but it was still pleasantly warm. The pastry was still soft in its bag. It had been baked this morning. Nosty couldn’t remember the last time he’d had something fresh. He took a sip of the coffee. It was far too sweet, further confirming that this was definitely the bird’s coffee. He took another swig. The thought that she’d made this to her specifications was strangely arousing. He pulled the muffin from the bag. Blueberry. He stuffed a piece in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before he had time to process what he was doing. It was still warm.He took another bite and washed it down with a mouthful of coffee. He fucking hated blueberry.
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After leaving the pastry and the coffee, and then not so subtly hiding around the corner trying to steal a glance of him accepting her offering and then giving up after ten finger numbing minutes, Belle left for her office quite content with her budding friendship. Waving good morning to the security guard at the gate, she wondered, not for the first time, if what she was doing was smart. This man, this dealer, if she was being honest with herself was just another of Glasgow’s “seedy”; the kind her posh London friends had warned her about before she’d made the move North. “Stay away from anyone even vaguely dirty. The Scots are a dirty bunch so it might be tough.” They’d laughed, oblivious to their own idiocy, or Belle’s growing discomfort, intent on having a pint and a laugh at the wee Aussie transplant who was relocating again to try and find...well, something. Nosty probably wasn’t the best choice of man to get involved with, she shook her head, or even be around, but her heart of hearts told her he needed someone. -------------------------------------------------------Three days later and Belle knew they’d finally settled on some sort of ‘routine’. If it was actively raining when she made her early morning coffee run, she’d choose a chocolate scone for Nosty and something with lemon in it for herself. She’d bought Nosty the same blueberry muffin she’d offered him before until he’d finally choked out that he couldn’t stand the taste and prefered something richer. Three tries, and two rejected treats later, she’d landed on the flaky chocolate scone and had beamed like the sun when he’d mumbled it was perfect. If it wasn’t actively raining, or if she’d hit the snooze button a few too many times, she’d merely grab the coffees before trotting off to locate Nosty to deliver his beverage before darting off to work. If she was lucky, and on time, she could stand and begin her caffeination ritual while attempting to weasel out conversation from Nosty. Most mornings, he was taciturn. Simply choosing to eye her and sip lightly. Sometimes she could get him to grunt single words in response to her litany of questions. Belle was taking what she could get. This morning, a Thursday, was as overcast as always, but the rain hadn’t actually made an appearance just yet. Coffee only then. She’d have to hurry if she wanted to catch Nosty before he retreated deeper into the maze of buildings that made up the business district of downtown Glasgow. If he was in an agreeable mood, he’d wait for her at the mouth of the alleyway closest to the coffee cart. If he wasn’t, Belle would have to wander until she stumbled upon him. The mouth of their ‘regular alleyway’ was almost directly in front of her toes when she heard it; a laugh. A male laugh, deep and sensuous. A laugh that she might have thought belonged to Nosty if she’d ever seen him smile in the days that she’d been trying to get to know him. Treading carefully into the darkened strip, she heard the sound again, whomever it belonged to was close. A flicker of fear shuddered through her body. Perhaps she’d just have to chalk today up to “not feeling well” and try again tomorrow. She glanced down at the twin coffees in her mitten covered fingers. No. Nosty might only be getting this little bit of sustenance from her. If she was going to chicken out, that would hurt him. She couldn’t hurt him. Stepping forward into the shadows, she tried to figure out where the sound was coming from, at the least. If she could place it, she could figure out if it was a threat or not. -------------------------------------------------------She was daft, his wee bird. Fucking bloody daft. Nosty wasn’t blind and he definitely wasn’t fucking stupid. His bird was fluttering in the wrong place this morning. His laugh rang out against the damp buildings, bouncing from stone to stone. His fucking laugh. It was only because his mind was spitting out thoughts faster than he could fucking process them. He knew. He knew he should’ve left well enough alone this morning. Taking the last of a shipment for his own personal use was a habit that had gotten more dealers killed then pleasured. Nosty wasn’t fucking stupid. He knew. He knew. He knew he couldn’t get the picture of her damned blue eyes out of his head. Her skin was fucking cream. Smooth as the first press of the plunger. He’d woken up too many mornings since she’d forced herself into his fucking pitiful excuse of an existence almost excited to see her again. Him. Fucking excited about seeing a bird. He could see any bird he wanted with a couple quick questions posed to the right people and here he was day after day, fucking whipped. This morning, though. This fucking morning had been too cold, last night hadn’t been satisfying enough and the small packet he’d been keeping hidden in one of his chest bandages had seemed the most important thing in the world. It should’ve been easy to give the bird the slip. He could disappear from her life within the day. Slip off into another part of Glasgow. Assign another one of his fucking lads to cover this part of downtown and he’d never see those fucking blue eyes again. He didn’t even know her name. “Nosty?” Retreating back into the shadows, he bit back a groan. Her voice, when his mind was already racing around itself in circles was like another needle in his arm--lighting in his veins. He twitched under his kilt. Half his mind cawed at him to take himself in hand. Take her. She had to be close enough to him now. She’d follow the sound of his voice almost anywhere, Nosty had learned. The other half of his mind told him to keep his fucking knob in his pants and walk away before he ripped the wings off this bird or worse. “Nosty?” Shite, she sounded scared. She should be scared. This wasn’t the type of world a bird like her should use to test her wings. “Nosty.” Her voice was softer. “I know you can probably hear me. I’m not going to come in after you, I’m just going to wait here for a couple minutes. I have coffee.” A low growl escaped his lips as he involuntarily crept forward. Everything surrounding this bird was automatic. He couldn’t stop himself from moving forward anymore than he could stop himself from just one more shot. One more high. He didn’t even know her name. She’d been bird in his head since he laid eyes on her and as much as she talked, she’d never bothered to refer to herself. Creeping forward, Nosty found where the bird had perched herself. She’d found herself some light filtering through the buildings; fighting against the heavy clouds. “There ya are.” His voice reminded him of watching a bottle shatter against bricks. She turned so fast coffee spilled onto her mittens. “Nosty. There you are.” That fucking smile. “I thought you were gone.” “Aye.” He mumbled softly, “I should be.” One covered hand reached out the cup he knew to be his. Nosty ignored it, moving past her arms to surround her from behind. “I should be gone and ye shouldnae have come here in the first place.” Those blue eyes followed him around, her body stayed frozen. Coffee was sloshing out of both cups, dotting her hands with soft brown. “Ye shouldnae seek me out, bird.” His voice was soft, dangerously soft. He knew the voices in his head, the ones that hadn’t stopped yelling to take himself in hand, were telling him to just push her up against the wall and take what he needed and then push her back into the light. “What’s yer name, bird?” He darted a hand out, brushing over her shoulder before retreating into himself. “Nosty…” her voice was hushed, like she was going to tell him a secret. “What have you done?”His laugh rang out again, more grotesque in the small space between them. “Ye knew, bird. Ye knew what I am.” Her eyes. Not filled with pity, but something else. Something Nosty’s brain couldn’t place, couldn’t process. “It’s okay, Nosty. It’s going to be okay.” “That’s rich, lass. Comin from ye.” His fingers drummed against the concrete behind him. He couldn’t force himself to sit still much longer. She set the coffee down by her feet, stepping closer to him. One tiny hand reached out and covered his arm before he could take his next breath. She was fucking touching him. “My name is Belle.” She whispered. Wrenching his arm out of her grasp, he darted down the alleyway, not bothering to notice he’d kicked the coffee as he’d left.