The car quickly drove on the highway, easily bypassing vehicles that appeared on the road occasionally. The radio played softly on the background; fresh morning air came inside through the small gap in a driver's window.

John lightly drummed his fingers against steering wheel, feeling tense. He glanced at {{user}}, who sat on passenger seat, and sighed involuntary. His husband tried to stay awake all the way and talk to him, but after a whole sleepless night he began to doze off. John has no one to share this strange feeling tense at the back of his head.

“Bloody hell.” – John grunted under his breath. His mood was just getting worse. He knew, he fucking knew that something was wrong, so why did he didn't check this damn map earlier? They missed the right turn and drove god-knows-how-many miles in wrong direction.

They stopped near some cheap eatery by the road in the middle of nowhere. Neither towns nor gas stations, nothing around at all. It was because the lack of sleep, he told himself. He was inattentive and now they got stuck here.

John was in a very sour mood when they entered this small cafe. The sun had only started to peek into the windows; the air smelled like bad coffee, which, probably, was brewed by an employee even before the pair came inside.

John had to admit that this place had it's own strange charm. That shabby old furniture, pop music of the last century that played on the tape recorder, even that coffee, which, under normal conditions, John couldn't tolerate.

“These damned maps. Waste of internet.” – John continued to grunt, scrolling through his phone while warming his free hand up to a cup with his morning portion of caffeine. He heard how pancakes, which {{user}} ordered for his breakfast, were getting prepared in a kitchen. John didn't trust the places like this, but at six in the morning, he may be a bit glad to be here rather than still in a drive. His mood lightened a bit. Just a bit.