Coffee Date

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A strong smell of freshly grounded coffee beans, the quiet chitter chatter and the subtle cream, patterned wallpaper that reflected the bright light of a lovely summer-esque day tearing through the broad windows of the coffee shop. 

This was it - his usual 12 o'clock spot.

Over the course of time, the German grew quite fond of this café, it felt so private and discreet, away from the masses, but not too desolate, striking a perfect balance.
He knew this place and its staff pretty well by now - on the right side, further down, there was a micro - pub section of a sort. That's where they served Belgian beer after 5.
The beauty of it being a Belgian Beer Café - having alcohol in close proximity to coffee.
What was there not to like?

It was the very same café that he always went to everyday in order to get his coffee before going back to work.

The only thing, or rather only one, that could make this spot any better was already there, anticipating his arrival, early as usual - wearing his typical white button-up shirt paired up with a red tie, this time slightly tighter around the chest, his sleeves rolled up, the metal frames of his reading glasses (much to German's displeasure) blocking the view of his striking, silver gaze.

A wide smile crept onto the tricoloured country's lips the second he saw a familiar face waiting for him ; sitting almost hidden away in the corner of the room, his eyes glued to the pages of a mysterious dark red book.

Cheerfully, he marched over to the table with a spring in his step.
"Whatcha readin' ?" Asked the Germanic nation enthusiastically as he sneaked up behind his seemingly unsuspecting victim, hoping to make him recoil or jump up in surprise but to no avail. Disappointingly, the man didn't even look away from the piece of literature to look back at him instead, presumably too consumed by the contents of the unknown book.

"Just some old thing I've picked up from my library room yesterday night. I was getting a bit bored sitting here all on my own." The bicoloured country stated somewhat monotonously, putting his object of interest away within seconds after hearing the question, watching the other shuffle into the seat opposite him. Only now did he notice the very small, yet nonetheless drastic changes in Germany's appearance, unnoticeable for some, but not for him.
The tricoloured country seemed to look a tiniest bit more vigorous, yet very well kempt and tidy, giving him an even greater mesmerising aura, as if that charming smile of his itself wasn't enough.

It sure was enough for the other man to smile back at him, so thoughtlessly yet truthfully.

"Now that you're here, can I just say - A pub? That's your definition of a lunch at a café?" The Polish man snickered, his tone turning a bit more provocative and playful - a rare occurrence for the Pole, the German thought, it's like he was in an unusually good mood for once.

"It's not a pub, it's a Belgian café! Besides, it's not like I'm going to drink alcohol so early in the noon. I haven't even finished work yet." Argued the younger man, still grinning as he took off his jacket and rested his elbows atop the table.

"So... Why did you actually want to meet me here ?" The older man inquired as he reached back for his book.

"Just to enjoy your company I suppose. A little chitchat never hurt anyone."
Chirped the other optimistically, "I should probably get us something to drink. Did you make up your mind already?"

"Quite a while ago, actually. You don't need to order or pay for anything." The Polish nation reaffirmed, flicking through the numerous pages, trying to pick up where he left off. 

Maybe some would say that it was kind of rude to read when you're on a social outgoing such as this one, but he couldn't help it. He was a multitasker that liked being busy, especially in situations like these - where Germany was involved, and to raise the mental bar of difficulty, they were completely alone and left to one another. 

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