Simon didn't change his traditions much.

The same coffee shop near the military base every day-a tiny corner on the other side of the road. It always had the same barista - a grey-haired man, a little older than middle age. In all this extended time, they had almost become best friends. Which wasn't surprising, since Ghost went there several times a day. Strangely enough, the coffee they made in this godforsaken place was excellent, perhaps the best he'd ever had.

Today's warm morning was no exception, and Ghost, not even fully awake, was already crossing the road on his way to the coffee shop. As he stepped inside, he could smell the enveloping aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the little bell on the door rang with a familiar sound. Without lifting his head he muttered in a voice still hoarse from sleep.

“The usual, mate…”

But finally raising his eyes to the counter, to his surprise there was you standing in the man's place with an enchanting smile in the early light.

Seems like his visits are going to be even more frequent now