i drink to stay warm

leaning against his ivy-covered doorframe, sebastian was the picture of nonchalance. had one known to look for it, as so very few do, they would have noticed the slight tension in his shoulders — or maybe they would have seen the way that despite it being nearly four o’clock in the morning, he seemed wide awake. 

“i hardly think this is appropriate,” he begins, tone amiable and impish. “what if, gasp, people talk?” pushing himself back to his feet, he gestured for the other to follow. “i suppose you are here for reasons other than bothering me?                      oh, close the door.”

“Bothering you is half the damn fun,” Jonah said as he closed the front door behind him. He carefully stepped further into the room and pointed to his empty container. “Sugar?” he asked. It was nearly a demand but Jonah had the smallest modicum of tact. “It’s pretty cliche but I’m baking,” he shrugged with a small smile. He hardly had good reason to justify why he was baking before dawn, or why he thought he had the right to go to his neighbor for the missing ingredient. Except for whatever Jonah wanted he attempted to get, it was this very attitude that had taken him as far in life as he had gone. 

Carved into the mountaintops were some of the most gorgeous flora and fauna, shrubbery and delicate small vines crisscrossed entire pathways of delightful greenery. It was pristine, untouched, and most importantly safe from the horrors of the city. Normally Jonah came out here when he needed to meditate, to think hard about his next course of action. He came here when Eden died, when he learned he was trapped, and when his job was threatened. 

The best spot was in the middle of a clearing but he realized he was not alone.

“You want to get out of my favorite tree little bird?” he asked as he gazed upwards.  

“Two bagels too. Vegetable cream cheese if you have it. If not, onion or whatever,” He said with a shrug and wiggled his phone-less hand  in dismissal. He slipped his phone into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet. “You get a lot of witch bitches in here normally?” Jonah said in reference to the disgruntled customer that walked out. He glanced around at the small coffee shop. “Would have thought they’d stay on their fucking side,” he pulled out a credit card and waved it around between two long fingers. His normally smooth and comfortable morning had been disrupted by a traffic jam and a few annoying phone calls he had to make to the other leaders.