The café was quiet, still caught in the last stretch of night. The windows were fogged from the warmth inside meeting the cold morning air. Soft golden light spilled from under the counters, catching the slow steam drifting from the espresso machine as it warmed up.
They moved behind the counter with easy familiarity. Tail swaying, ears tilted toward the door. Everything was ready — pastries out, mugs stacked, first pot of coffee already brewed. The city outside was still asleep.
At five sharp, the bell above the door chimed.
They didn’t need to look up. A cup was already waiting at the counter — something new today, a sweet espresso with caramel and a hint of cinnamon, topped with a little swirl of foam art. They didn’t always make the same drink for him. That was the fun of it.
“Morning,” they said, already pushing the cup forward.
“Now that’s service,” came the Scottish voice, bright even at this hour. “What’ve we got today, barista mystery special?”
They smiled, a little flick of the tail. “Taste and guess.”
Soap grinned wide, taking the drink in both hands. He blew on the surface before taking a careful sip — then raised his eyebrows.
“Oof. That’s good. Caramel?” He took another sip. “No... cinnamon too? Damn, you’re trying to kill me with kindness.”
“You said surprises were your favorite.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He leaned against the counter, elbow resting casually. “Spoiled, I am.”
“You show up at five every morning,” they said. “Makes it easy.”
Soap tapped the side of his cup. “Aye, but don’t tell the others. They’ll expect I’ve got standards.”
They laughed, light and quick. He always managed to bring a little noise into the calm. Not in a bad way — just enough to wake the place up a little earlier.
“Y’know,” he said after a second, “Gaz mentioned something funny. Said hybrids here get attached. Pick their favorite customers. That true?”
They paused, hands stilling on the towel they were folding. He didn’t sound mocking. Just curious.
“Yeah,” they said after a beat. “Most of us do. When someone’s kind. When they make us feel safe.”
He nodded, looking down into his drink like he was thinking it over.
“Didn’t take long for me to pick mine either,” he said suddenly, eyes flicking back up to them.
They blinked. “You picked one?”
Soap smirked. “Course I did. They make me mystery drinks and remember how I like ‘em a wee bit sweet. What’s not to love?”
Their ears tipped back in quiet embarrassment, but they couldn’t help the small smile.
“You never asked questions,” they said softly. “Not the wrong ones, anyway.”
“Why would I?” he shrugged. “You’ve got sharp eyes, good memory, and a tail that gives you away when you’re proud of a drink. That’s all I need to know.”
The tail flicked again — traitorous thing — but they didn’t try to hide the grin this time.
“You staying long?” they asked.
“Just a bit,” he said, sipping again. “Got training later. But figured I’d sit and enjoy this masterpiece instead of rushing off.”
He picked the seat near the counter rather than the window, always preferring to chat if it wasn’t too busy.
“I’m glad you come here,” they said after a pause.
He glanced at them, smile softer now. “So am I. Feels like a good place. Real.”
They nodded once. It was all they needed to hear.
He stood after a few more minutes, brushing his hand against the counter lightly. “Same time tomorrow?”
“I'm always here" He smiled and then he headed for the door, still sipping. The bell chimed as it closed behind him.
They stood still a moment, tail swaying slowly behind them. Then they turned back to the espresso machine, already thinking of tomorrow’s surprise.
The day was just beginning.