"So, where should we go first?" Azael asked, looking at her. "Anywhere you want."
Arista thought for a mont, glancing at the shops around them.
"Well, since it’s still morning..." She tilted her head slightly. "How about coffee? And maybe a pastry with it. It’s been a while since I’ve had ti to sit down and enjoy one properly."
Azael looked at her. "You really have been too busy lately."
"Yeah because of the duty that cos with having territory."
"Not today, it doesn’t..." He squeezed her hand once. "Today you relax. No responsibilities now. No duties. Nothing. Just enjoying our day together."
She smiled at that. Sothing in her shoulders visibly loosened. She felt comfortable beside him.
"Then let’s get coffee," she said. "I know exactly the right place."
"Lead the way." He said with sift smile.
She did it. She guided him through the gradually filling street, weaving between the early morning crowd with the ease of soone who knew these roads well.
They walked close together, her hand still in his, until she slowed and stopped in front of a small shop near the end of the row.
The front of it was almost entirely glass. Wide, clear panes that let the warm light from inside spill out onto the pavent. A wooden door sat at the center, and above it hung a simple painted sign.
Azael held the door open for her.
The small bell above it chid softly as they stepped inside.
The shop was warm and slled richly of roasted coffee and sothing sweet baking sowhere in the back. A handful of tables were scattered across the wooden floor. Soft and unhurried. The kind of place that felt like it had no interest in rushing anyone.
Arista chose a table in the far corner, tucked slightly away from the other guests.
Azael pulled out her chair before she could reach for it.
She looked at him. Then laughed quietly and shook her head.
"Thank you," she said, sitting down with a smile.
He took the chair across from her.
A staff mber ca by shortly after. Azael ordered a black coffee. Arista considered the nu for exactly three seconds before asking for a mocha and a chocolate cake.
"Good combination," Azael said, once the staff mber had gone.
"The best," she said, with the quiet confidence of soone who had tested this theory many tis.
They settled into easy conversation, the noise of the street fading pleasantly behind the glass. At so point Arista rested her elbow on the table and propped her chin in her palm, looking at him with that particular expression she sotis wore. Warm and a little teasing.
"So," she said. "Given that things are still... complicated with Isabel. Maybe its not doing good for you." A pause. The corner of her mouth curved. "What exactly is your plan?"
Azael looked at her.
’Haha...she thinks I am not having any progression with her.’ Azael chuckled inside.
But outside he showed sothing else.
He made his expression as pitiful as he could manage. Shoulders dropping. Eyes carrying the specific weight of a man bravely facing hardship.
"I’m going to keep trying," he said with great solemnity. "I haven’t given up. Not even close. Watch ."
He said with courageous expression. He was not going to give up.
Arista pressed her lips together, clearly fighting a smile.
"Your determination is honestly sothing else," she said. "Most people would reconsider."
"I am not most people."
She laughed softly. "No. You really aren’t." She shook her head. "Well. If it ever gets too heavy, you know where to find . I’ll be here."
"I know," he said. Genuinely this ti, the performance dropping for just a mont. "Thank you."
She nodded simply.
A small quiet settled between them. Comfortable. The kind that doesn’t need to be filled.
Then Azael asked, sothing that he eas very curious about, keeping his tone easy and casual, "Sister Arista. Is there anyone you like? Any man you’re interested in?"
She raised an eyebrow at him.
Then shook her head. "No. There’s no one." She said it without much thought. As a simple fact. "Honestly, I’ve rarely t any man who could hold my attention long enough to be interesting. Let alone one I’d actually like."
Azael said nothing.
But sothing settled quietly in his chest. A kind of relief he didn’t examine too closely.
"What about an arranged marriage?" he asked. "Has mother ever looked into finding soone suitable for you? For the family?"
"No. And even if she had, I’m not interested. Not right now." Arista looked at him evenly. "When I actually beco Duchess and the matter of an heir becos relevant, maybe I’ll think about it. But until then?" She shook her head. "No."
Azael nodded slowly.
Then smiled.
"Well," he said. "You do have . And you do like . So technically you’re not entirely alone in this."
Arista stared at him. She felt heat rise in her cheeks for so unknown reason but that was only few seconds she genuinely didn’t know what to do with that sentence.
But then she burst out laughing. Open and real, her hand going to her mouth, her athyst eyes bright with it.
"Oh, that’s true," she said, still laughing. "I really do like you. You’re far too handso and so cute. Its hard not to like you." She shook her head at him.
He grinned.
Just then their order arrived.
The coffee was set down between them, dark and fragrant, steam curling gently upward. The chocolate cake sat beside Arista’s cup on a small white plate, golden brown and dusted lightly with sugar.
Arista wrapped both hands around her cup and brought it to her lips.
She took the first slow sip.
Her eyes closed.
A quiet exhale.
"It’s so good," she said softly. Almost to herself.
"Agreed," Azael said, taking a sip of his own.
Then she picked up her spoon and cut gently into the cake. Brought a piece to her lips. Her eyes closed again the mont it hit her tongue. One palm rose and pressed lightly to her cheek. A small sound escaped her, barely audible, just a soft contented hum from sowhere deep in her satisfaction.
Azael watched her. ’She looks so cute.’
"That good?" he asked.
"Mmm." She opened her eyes. "Yes. Genuinely."
He watched her take another small bite with the sa quiet pleasure.
Then he leaned forward slightly on the table, resting his chin in one hand. And he smiled.
"Can I taste it?"
She looked up at him.
He tilted his head and opened his mouth. Just slightly. With the most innocent expression he owned.
"Ahh~"
Arista stared at him for a full second.
Her cheeks went pink almost imdiately.
"You..." she was startled.
But she didn’t say no.
She held his gaze for a mont longer, the blush deepening, and then quietly loaded a small piece of cake onto the spoon. She leaned forward slightly across the table and brought it carefully to his lips.
He ate it.
"Mmm." He sat back with a satisfied expression. "That really is good." Then he looked at her and smiled. "Though I think it tastes better when you feed it to ."
"You bad boy," she said imdiately, pointing the spoon at him. He was saying too many cheesy lines today. So she couldn’t help but call him bad.
Her face was quite pink now.
"Shaless," she added.
"I prefer charming."
"Tch! Being narcissistic now?." She clicked her tongue and asked.
He laughed. "Maybe I am."
She shook her head at him firmly and reached forward to retrieve her spoon.
She loaded another piece of cake and lifted it toward her own mouth.
Then stopped.
Her eyes dropped to the spoon.
Then moved slowly to Azael.
Then back to the spoon.
She had eaten from this spoon. Then Azael ate from the sa. Where her lips had touched it. Even her tongue might have touched.
Then his lips had touched this spoon. She had just fed him from it. And now she was sitting here about to put it directly into her own mouth without a second thought as if that was a completely normal and unremarkable thing to do.
Her face went from pink to red in approximately one second.
Azael watched the entire process happen in real ti.
He said nothing.
He simply rested his chin in his hand, wrapped both hands around his coffee cup, and looked out the window with the serene expression of soone enjoying a lovely morning and not at all the cause of anyone’s current distress.
The corner of his mouth, just barely, curved upward.
Arista stared at spoon for a while then brought it to her lips.
"Mm"
She ate the small piece.
While telling herself one thing. ’It’s nothing serious Arista! His my brother! And I am not so teeenager!’
She was getting closer to Azael more and more as they spend ti.
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[A/N: Arista image in comnt section]
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