#lattes.

Jaune finished decorating her bed. She stepped back and surveyed her work with pride— there. It was done. Every last flourish and distinctive touch was finally complete. These first few days had been difficult. Jaune had to be very aggressive with her alarms to wake up every morning so that she would have enough time in the day to unpack, and a little later, to personalize her little space.

Anyway, because of how well-disciplined she’d been lately, Jaune had devoted the day to rewarding herself for all the work she did (especially consistently waking up before 10:30 in the morning). She had to start off with a great morning, so it only made sense that a well-made latte was the first requirement. She could practically taste it already— the rich shot of espresso, the steamed milk, the light layer of foam; the perfect balance between the creaminess of the drink and the subtle coffee flavour. 

There was only one problem, and that was that she didn’t know where she could find a latte on the island. Jaune got dressed, clasping a golden necklace around her neck and popping in her contacts, and grabbing a small hangbag before heading out of the door.