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||02|| Coffee

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  Chapter song: I hear a symphony by Cody Fry - flying

C H A P T E R  T W O
Clarity's POV

"Here, you can use this," Olias says, passing me a black jacket from his trunk, leaving him in his gray sweater. He shuts the trunk close once I take it from him.

I pull it over myself and I'm immediately consumed by it.

It's long and big, but warm and smells like... coconuts? Whatever the fragrant smell is, it's amazing.

I look over at Olias on the other side of the car, watching me adjust to his sweater, his eyes lazily falling up and down my frame.

"Does it look good?" I question, pulling my hair out from underneath, letting it fall over my shoulders.

He only nods, "Just don't fuck it up," he says, getting in the front seat. I look down and zip the jacket up. He should just let me have this. I like it better than anything in my closet. But I know he wouldn't, so I don't ask.

I go to open the door to the seat beside him, but it's locked. I bend over, knocking on the glass and smiling.

Starting the car, he looks over, a dimple forms in his left cheek. He reaches over the seats and pushes the door open for me.

I hurry into the car sitting in and bringing my knees inside the jacket and to my mouth, "Trying to get rid of me already?"

"I'd never," he says, but I sense sarcasm and humor in his tone. He looks over at me, "Legs down, seatbelt on."

"Okay," I respond and do as he says, buckling my seat belt in. He adjusts his rearview mirror and then starts to drive into the streets of New York.

"Address?"

I tell him the location of the Starbucks and he makes his way there. For the entire car ride, I look out the window, the wind taking my hair up and around in every direction possible. The lights of downtown Manhattan blur together as he drives, and I even encounter a dog with his head out the window on the way there as well.

Stopping at the Starbucks, I get out and meet Olias by the door. He opens it for me, and I'm immediately smacked in the face by the scent of coffee beans, vanilla, and fresh pastries.

I hum as my second favorite smell (right below the scent of new book pages) fills my lungs.

"What drink do you order?" He asks me. I turn to face him.

Below the well-lit light, I can see him much clearer. The dark circle around his eyes, his broad frame, an awkward stance.

His imperfect-yet-perfect features make him look as pretty as his name.

In a platonic way, of course. I wouldn't do that to Jonah.

I inhale, "I order a Strawberries and Creme Frappuccino, sub classic because I like white mocha, three pumps of raspberry or one for a small whip cream on top and bottom, double blended and second time blended with a splash of black tea."

He's staring at me like I just said the ritual for summoning a demon.

I knew that would happen. And I only laugh, "Got all that?"

He brings his hand to the back of his neck and scratches, "All of that is one drink?"

I nod.

"Okay then." He raises his brows in acceptance.

I go to grab my wallet but realize I'm not carrying anything on me. My face drops as I look back up at Olias.

"I don't have any money."

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