@mightyxsprout chirped: [ coffee ] + [ flower crown ] / I dunno if I sent this or if you're still accepting - just throwing it here. orz platonic / familial actions.
Fresh grounds in a rather dark brew, fragrant with their essence poured into a mug with no visible additions. A quiet smell, the strength of a typical coffee bringing the senses to life and exhaling the excess alertness. It’s a pleasant wake-up call to one still dragging from the night before. Wild chases, a narrow brush with death ─ all the typical woes of the wanted. Life finds its way back into heavy eyes as she takes in the aroma once more, mug comfortably cradled in her hands as though it were something priceless. What joy such common things could bring her, even when presented by unfamiliar faces. A sip pours jitters into her system down to the very moment it stops flowing down the throat. Warm, bitter, something to take an edge off a morning and blend into a peaceful afternoon. There’s a gratitude pooling in the chest where rippling residue leaves imprints of a previously savored drink .
How it grows, too, beneath the light weight placed upon a braid. Tucked easily into place, as if a golden crown were made to hold yet another, coloring it in bright, natural shades. A hand to touch the petals of a flower with utmost care, only faintly catching a floral scent under the sharpness of coffee. Object identified, only adding another layer of happiness to the quaint feeling of the day. Such delicate care was the sort made for friends. What meaning it must have, then, to be given those gifts regardless of common tradition .
❝ Oh? How lovely. ❞ A smile to grace her face, colored with the warmth of pleasantries and beverage. Eyes settle on the other as they would any friendly individual, full of greater comfort now being able to match actions with a face. ❝ Did you make both of these yourself? You must have quite the talent . ❞
