Raindrops and Coffee Cups // Eric & Junelle

The rain had never bothered Eric—it was being out in the rain that did.  But, sacrifices were a necessary part of life, and if there was anyone he was willing to sacrifice for, it was Junelle.  She was, in essence, his sun, his moon, his stars, his everything.  One could never have asked for a better friend than the one he found in her.  Days were dull without her to brighten them—so he was glad that, for the first time in what felt like forever, they were going out again.

Eric managed to find a small table in the corner of the Starbucks, just for the two of them, where he could talk and not worry about anyone overhearing them.  While Junelle was open and didn’t care, he was private and wished to remain unobserved.  Life was more comfortable when you were the observer and not the observee.  He sat, waiting for his friend and whispering “Sencha Lime” and “Lime Samba” to himself, the two names slipping between other words that slipping from his mouth as he tried to hastily write them down on the napkin in front of him.

He was fine spending time like that, sitting in the corner and writing down whatever came to mind on whatever was available, but that’s not what he was here for today—he had to remind himself of it several times, as he did with the tea name.  Today he was here for Junelle, just like he would be tomorrow and the day after and the day after that.  He would always be there, waiting for her.