Theo's P.O.V
The café was still quiet. Just two tables were occupied, the rest sat empty. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the warm scent of toasted bread, filling the air. Soft music drifted from a speaker in the corner, mellowing the mood even as the midday sun started pouring through the big front window.
I sat by the glass, a cold lemon juice sweating on the table in front of me. The condensation dripped down the sides, pooling on the coaster. One sip and the sourness hit hard, sharp on the tongue, but weirdly calming. My stomach twisted a little, but it was better than the nausea from earlier.
Chester sat across from me, fingers wrapped around his iced coffee. His straw moved slowly with each sip. He didn't say much, just glanced at me now and then, like he was making sure I wouldn't pass out right here.
