Tags: age difference, bipoc character, character is oblivious, fae and fairy folk, flirting, interspecies romance, mentions of speciesism, misunderstandings, mlm, mutual pining, past tense, pov third person limited, vampire
*
Stay out of the magic quarter.
It was the one rule Danny’s great-grandma had for the family. Mamie Mari was deeply superstitious, the living embodiment of the phrase “old wives’ tale.” She might not be the matriarch she once was—most of her authority had ebbed away, and now she spent her days knitting and baking rather than poking her nose into everyone’s business—but she could be downright scary. His cousins were more adventurous, but Danny followed the rule rather than expose himself to Mamie’s wrath.
That was why, when Bus 42B turned toward the magic end of town instead of going around its borders, Danny sighed forlornly and got off five stops early.
It was raining. Because of course it was.
He pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt, tucked his hands into his pockets, and barely avoided the puddle between the curb and sidewalk.
Maybe he could wait out the rain? Another bus would come along soon, right?
Considering his luck had stranded him ten blocks from his job interview in the middle of a rainstorm, he didn’t hold out much hope of his luck magically improving.
Resigned to looking—and feeling—like a drowned cat, Danny raised his chin and marched in what he hoped was the right direction.
It turned out luck was on his side.
Near the end of the street was a shop with an old-fashioned wooden sign straight out of a Renaissance Festival. It read “The Tasty Crumpet” in an elegant navy script that glittered with gold flecks, a baker’s cap and wooden spoon bracketing the words. The light cast through the windows was soft and inviting—a sharp contrast to the dreary weather—promising warmth and tasty treats.
All of that was tempting enough, but the “HELP WANTED” sign taped to the front window sealed the deal. The sign was old and battered, like it’d seen its fair share of use, but the words “AVAILABLE IMMEDIATELY INQUIRE WITHIN” at the bottom caught his eye. How could he say no to that?
The door chimed as he stepped inside, a bell that tinkled more than rang, and the sound made him smile despite the water dripping off his nose. He shook out his hair and stepped toward the counter.
The shop had a homey vibe. There was a stone fireplace at one end, a fire casting dancing shadows across the floor. Along the walls, shelf after shelf was lined with battered editions of books Danny’d been forced to read in high school, and a fair number he’d never even heard of, like The Tales of Ghatotkacha and The Harrowing Story of the Spirit of St. Clair. The shop’s furniture was mismatched, a mess of shapes and colors that shouldn’t have looked as inviting as it did, each piece tempting him to run a finger along its edges and learn its history.
And then there was the smell: coffee and spices, chocolate and bread. His mouth watered; even if he didn’t leave with a job, he was definitely leaving with a latte, some muffins, and a chocolate croissant.
Danny loved the quaint comfort of the place; something about it spread through his chest and chased away the chill from the rain.
“Greetings, weary traveler,” said the petite woman behind the counter. Her ears were lined with so many piercings, they looked like they ended in points. “What may I offer you today?” Her smile promised that she would highly recommend everything and would force free samples on him to prove just how tasty the crumpets were.
“Uhm,” Danny said, jerking his thumb toward the front window. “I was actually hoping for a job?”
The woman’s eyes went wide, and she clapped in delight. “Really? You’d like to join the dwindling number of baristas supporting my small establishment?”
Danny frowned, hearing a hint of Mamie’s accent in the woman’s lilting voice. “Sure? If you don’t mind someone with no experience and—”
“Pssh.” She waved a hand like she was clearing away his words as easily as smoke. “Experience is a wonderful thing: you get it in the doing. I’m Siobhan.” She held her hand out palm-down as though she expected him to kiss it.
He shook it awkwardly instead. “Danny. When can I start?”
“I would say immediately, but you’re soaked through. Take a seat by the fire, and I’ll bring you some tea. Once the bleakness of the storm is lost from your eyes, we can talk business.”
Arguing with Siobhan seemed pointless, so he did as he was told. Soon, he found himself in an oversized armchair holding a floral-smelling tea in a handmade mug dotted with ladybugs. He didn’t recognize the flavor, but he was too damp to care; what mattered was that it was hot. Stretching his feet toward the fire, he sipped at the drink and decided that, job or no job, being here was way better than going to some random interview across town.
“You’re in my seat.”
He looked up into granite eyes framed by tight, dark curls. Words like “Adonis” and “Vitruvian man” came to mind, and Danny got lost tracing the perfect lines of his perfect jaw. The longer Danny stared, the more the man’s lips quirked into an amused frown, until Danny belatedly remembered, Oh yeah, he said something.
“Oh.” The absurdity of reserved seating in a café occurred to him, but he wasn’t rude enough to challenge the man over a chair. “Sorry. I didn’t know. Let me—”
Danny started to get up only to have the man gently poke him with the end of his umbrella, pushing him back into place.
“Sit. You’re new, and it’s not my place to scare you off. But… it is my seat, so do you mind if I join you?”
“Be my guest.” He wasn’t going to say no to a handsome stranger, even one who was bossy about seating. “Let me just…” Danny compulsively tried to tidy up, found only his drink and someone’s abandoned newspaper, and sank farther into the armchair, wishing he could make a better first impression.
The man took a seat in a beautifully upholstered antique chair. It didn’t look as comfortable as Danny’s seat (though Danny’s selection had been driven by fear of ruining the embroidery with his wet hoodie and khakis), but it suited the man’s blazer and tie.
“I’m Azad El Bachir.” There was an air of hesitant expectancy as he said it, like he was afraid of Danny’s response. Danny couldn’t understand why. It was a nice enough name, and Azad’s subtle accent made it sound particularly good, dripping like honey, heavy but sweet. Nothing about it suggested Danny should react to it… yet Azad seemed to expect him to.
“Danny.” He offered his hand and ignored the chill when their grips joined for a cursory shake.
“It’s a pleasure, Danny.” A pause. “Do you truly mean you’ve never heard of me?”
Danny blinked. Had he? He was pretty sure he’d remember someone like Azad.
“Should I have? Are you a famous model or something?”
A deep laugh startled from Azad, filling the cozy space between them.
“I’m certainly not a model, and I’m apparently not as famous as I thought.”
“Then why—?”
“Just my ego, I suppose,” Azad said with an apologetic smile. “Admittedly, I may prefer obscurity. What brings you to this side of town, Danny? It’s not often this lovely place sees a fresh face.”
“Well, I’m here completely by accident, but I just got hired as a barista,” Danny said, marveling at the changes in his fortune. Then, he curled his toes, realized his socks were still drenched, and wasn’t sure the job alone balanced things out. Talking to Azad, though… “I think my first shift starts whenever I finish my tea? Siobhan told me to warm up and find her when I’d ‘lost the rain.’ ” He smiled conspiratorially, sure that a regular like Azad would know Siobhan well enough to find her as delightfully strange as Danny did.
But Azad nodded sagely and said, “That’ll take at least another cup of tea. I can still see rain clouds rattling around in your head. What are you drinking? I’ll get you a second cup.”
“No, I couldn’t impose. I work here—or, will work here—” Would this disaster of a first meeting ever end? Gods, he could only imagine how flustered he’d be as Azad’s barista after this debacle.
“I’m aware, and I offered all the same.”
“All right, then, another of…” He looked at his cup. “Whatever this is.”
Azad stood and patted his shoulder. “I’ll ask Siobhan,” he said, then left, navigating the café’s strange layout with practiced ease. Danny tried not to watch as Azad talked to Siobhan, a friendly familiarity in their interactions that Danny longed for. A place to belong, where he fit in.
Azad returned with a small smile (more evident in his eyes than on his lips) and two steaming mugs. “I’ve secured you another cup of freedom. I think you owe me some conversation.”
Danny gladly took the drink and breathed it in. It was spicier than the last brew but just as appealing. “I already owed you one for stealing your chair.”
“Then I suppose you’ll owe me a second chat later,” Azad said, his voice like velvet. Danny couldn’t help but lean in. “So, Danny.” Goosebumps sprang up on Danny’s arms. “Tell me about yourself. However much you can fit in a cup of tea…”
*
Danny looked over the cappuccino machine, saw Azad with his nose in a book, smiled—then caught himself smiling and overcompensated by glaring at the hot-water spigot.
Why was he looking at Azad again? And why did he care that he was looking?
Why did he want Azad to catch him and smile back?
Having a crush on a customer was inconvenient, especially an unfailingly regular one. The guy was handsome and nice—the worst combo in the world, really. Danny hoped he could will his feelings out of existence before things got awkward.
Busy staring again, he accidentally knocked over a dark container with an even darker, molasses-thick substance inside.
“Shit,” he hissed, rushing to grab a dish towel from the sink, but by the time he returned to mop up the mess, it was too late. The stain from the container’s mysterious goo wouldn’t go away no matter how hard Danny scrubbed at it. He gave up and went to apologize to Siobhan for ruining her counter on his second day, hoping she wouldn’t be too hard on him.
*
“You burnt the edges,” Siobhan said as she bent down to inspect the pastries. “But… the rest is good.”
Danny perked up. “Good enough to put in the display case?”
Siobhan hummed in consideration, gently removing one of the tarts from the pan. She breathed in the aroma, then nibbled an edge. Danny rocked on his heels as he waited for the verdict.
“You have much to learn, but these are quite scrumptious. They taste sweet from the joy you put into your baking. Customers will enjoy the pieces of your aura that come across in the smell.”
“Awesome,” Danny said, because what else could he say? The bell rang out front—the just-opened shop welcoming the first customer of the day—and he started toward the door separating the kitchen from the café proper. “Will you bring them out when they cool down?”
Siobhan was already preoccupied with the oven. “Yes,” she managed before she was lost in the next tray of baked goods.
He was surprised and pleased to see Azad sitting at his favorite seat, too occupied with the morning paper to need Danny just yet. Azad always finished reading the headlines before ordering a drink.
Trying to distract himself, Danny pulled out his phone.
Gina
does your granny know you work so close to magic town?
i saw a *gargoyle* on my commute over!!
Danny
no she doesn’t pls don’t tell her
it’s far enough away, i’m not breaking any rules!
Gina
where is this place??
you said corner of 5th and main?
Danny
yeah it’s easy to find
it’s across from an antique store and next to a bank
Gina
i’m at the bank. there’s no cafe??
ugh, i have to head to work. can’t be late again
“What’s wrong?”
Danny flashed Azad a smile before continuing his text message. “Sorry, gimme a second. Trying to get a friend to visit me on her way to work, but she’s having trouble finding the place.”
“Friend?” Azad asked with a polite curiosity at odds with his gloomy expression.
“Yeah, she lived across the street from me when we were kids. I gave her a GPS coordinate; I don’t get why she can’t find it.”
“Maybe her blood’s too thin.”
Danny looked up. Too thin? Like anemia? What the heck did that have to do with anything?
Gina
sry bb g2g maybe next week???
bring me a pastry you made pls ♥
“Did she give up?” Azad asked sympathetically, though there was a smug glint in his eyes.
“Yeah.” He tried to wipe the disappointment from his face as he pocketed his phone. “Ugh. I’m being super rude. What can I get you?”
“I’m in no hurry,” Azad assured him. “Can I have one of the tarts you made? They smell delightful.”
Danny grinned, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “How do you know about that?”
“Sooner or later, Siobhan has all her baristas try their hand at baking.”
“Oh.” Why was Azad’s answer disheartening? What had Danny expected him—wanted him—to say?
“It doesn’t smell like smoke, Siobhan’s not shouting, and you’re not crying, so I assume the attempt was moderately successful. I don’t mind being your first test subject.”
Mollified, Danny chewed the inside of his cheek. “I don’t see you eat much.”
“I don’t,” Azad agreed solemnly, “but I’m willing to make an exception. What did you make?”
“Blood-orange tarts.”
Azad blinked at him. “Blood-orange tarts?”
“It was Siobhan’s idea. Strange choice, but all her food’s a little strange—” He frowned as he took in Azad’s grimace. He was either holding in a laugh or trying not to scowl, and Danny wasn’t sure which would be worse. “What’s wrong with blood orange?”
“Nothing,” Azad reassured him. “It’s merely a joke at my expense. I’ll have one of the tarts and my usual tea, please.”
*
“Weird how much that guy likes the cucumber bread,” Danny mumbled as he closed the display case. “Cucumber bread? Where does Siobhan even get these ideas?”
When he stood up, he was greeted by Azad leaning on the counter and looking over the day’s specials.
“He’s a kappa,” Azad said. When he saw Danny’s blank face, he added, “That man with the cucumber bread. He’s a kappa.”
Danny frowned. “He’s in a fraternity?”
Azad gave him a puzzled look. “No. I mean he’s—”
“Stop flirting,” Siobhan teased as she pushed out of the kitchen with a tray of cookies fresh from the oven.
“I wasn’t flirting,” Danny said defensively. He really hadn’t been, even if Azad was unfairly attractive. He knew better. Azad was way out of his league.
“Not you,” she said, giving him a gentle smile before eyeing Azad. “I’ve no interest in finding another barista after you steal him from me.”
Danny couldn’t help but laugh.
Azad gave him a strange look.
“Sorry,” Danny said reflexively. “What can I get you?”
“A refill.” He slid a mug across the counter, empty save for the dregs floating in a tacky, red residue. Danny frowned; that didn’t look like any of the drinks Siobhan had taught him to make.
“I’m impressed, you know,” Azad said, fingers drumming against the counter while he waited. “You’ve been doing so well.”
Danny preened. “Thanks.”
“You were so good with that kappa, despite their reputation, and not many of Siobhan’s baristas have earned a smile from that grump Gerry, never mind a tip.”
“Grump?” Danny bristled with the need to defend a regular. “That old man who always orders porridge and warm milk? He’s a sweetheart. Siobhan is better off without baristas that make her customers grumpy. It’s not a hard order to get right.”
Amusement sparkled in Azad’s eyes, like he could never have anticipated Danny’s answer but was delighted by it all the same. “You’re right, of course,” he said. “Am I not allowed to be impressed? I meant what I said—you do wonders making everyone feel comfortable here. Your presence is soothing.”
“Oh.” He stared at Azad’s hands on the counter until his cheeks weren’t on fire anymore, then he looked up into stony eyes and gave a shy smile. “Thanks.”
*
The weeks blurred together, in a good way. Danny woke up ready for the day, worked hard, and left The Tasty Crumpet tired but content.
It was the little moments that stood out.
A gangly teenager with unkempt hair had been bashful about asking for a different spoon (because he was allergic to the silver one). Azad had been wearing a pale purple scarf that perfectly complemented the rich sepia tones of his complexion.
A man with a preposterously large nose that somehow fit with his small eyes and long ears had asked for a drink with coarse, stinky powder sprinkled on top. Azad came late that day, no books in hand, and perused the store’s shelves before giving up and talking to Danny while he swept.
A pair of twins with auburn hair and a fox-like tilt to their eyes had stared at him like they guarded secrets he’d never know; they ordered tofu in matching high-pitched voices then skipped away. Siobhan and Azad had argued about new menu items, Siobhan taking Azad far too seriously as he teased her with suggestions of blood sausages.
Then, there was the time he really started to wonder about the clientele at The Tasty Crumpet.
Danny’s eyes traced the line of a strong jaw, lingered on plush lips, and got absolutely lost in granite eyes. He’d been stunned the first time he’d looked into Azad’s gaze, and it made him dizzy to meet someone else whose were the exact same hue.
“What lovely skin you have.” The man reached across the counter, ignoring the espresso he’d ordered, and took Danny’s hand. He traced the line of freckles up Danny’s forearm and left goosebumps in his wake.
A blush crept up Danny’s neck, his cheeks, all the way to his forehead. “Uh… thank you?” He’d never felt so tongue-tied in his life; it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. “Would you like anything else?”
Disappointment flashed in the man’s eyes; he sighed wistfully and released his hold on Danny. “I suppose not. I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t realize your heart was spoken for.”
“My— What?” Danny’d had a lot of strange conversations since he started working there, but he couldn’t wrap his head around this one.
“They’re lucky, whoever they are. I’ve heard wonderful things about you. I can tell you’re a good one. Definitely a keeper.”
“What? Sir, I, uh… I don’t—”
The man waved his hand dismissively. “It’s all right. I’d have to sing to reel you in, and Siobhan would disapprove.”
“You sing?” Danny asked, leaning in to hear him better. His voice was sweet; Danny imagined he had a wonderful singing voice, the type that really drew people in.
The man took his drink and laughed like Danny had told a joke. Danny stood there long after the man left, ignoring the tightness in his chest.
*
Danny rushed in, wincing as the bell announced his late arrival. Siobhan would understand, but he was mortified. Hurrying toward the counter to grab his apron and get to work, something caught his eye; stopping short, he backtracked to a high-top by the door.
“Why are you sitting over here?” Danny asked, pointing accusingly at Azad.
Azad didn’t look up from his book. “My chair is taken.”
Danny looked to Azad’s usual spot. The seats by the fire were occupied by two stone-faced men so large Danny was surprised their chairs didn’t break and their porcelain teacups didn’t shatter.
“It’s been taken frequently of late,” Azad said. “Seems this place is getting popular.”
It was true; most of the seats were filled, and there was a line at the counter. But the café was always busy. If anything, the quiet days when he’d first started working seemed unusual (though at the time, he’d been thankful he could get into the swing of his new job without much pressure).
“It’s because of you,” Azad said with a fond eye roll. He put the book down. “They like you.”
“Me?” Danny squeaked.
“Everyone thought Siobhan was crazy for opening a café in this part of town—”
“This is a lovely part of town!”
“—and few people were willing to make the trip—”
“Why? It’s only a block and a half from the bus!”
“—but word spread about how good you were, and now people are flocking over to give it a try. Once they’re here, Siobhan’s baking seals the deal.”
“But—But what’s it got to do with me?” he sputtered. Danny had always been unremarkable at anything and everything he did. That he might be good at something? Impossible. “I mean, that’s flattering, but I’m nothing special—literally the world’s most average barista.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
Danny blushed and managed to choke out, “Am I a slightly above-average barista, then?”
“You’re superb. Definitely something special.”
A handsome guy—and Azad especially—saying he was special short-circuited Danny’s brain. Without any conscious thought, he muttered what was hopefully “Thanks” and went behind the counter to help Siobhan.
And made sure to drop by and top off Azad’s tea at every opportunity he got, enjoying Azad’s amused and smug attention.
*
“Thank you, lad,” said the woman in a thick Scottish accent. “This smells divine.”
“Anytime!” Danny sprinkled seaweed flakes onto her latte, careful not to spill any as he then handed it over. Nori and coffee would usually rank up there on the weirdness scale, but plenty of people here asked for weird things. Probably some new nutrition fad.
The woman took the drink and offered him a warm smile before downing it in a single gulp. It was way too hot to drink that fast; Danny tried not to gawk. Okay, probably not a fad—she was wearing a fur coat that matched her dark eyes, so maybe she just liked heat.
The bell over the door rang, and Danny looked over. When he saw Azad with a few books tucked under his arm, he licked his lips and wondered if it’d be too obvious how smitten he was if he started preparing Azad’s usual drink now.
“Wonderful.” The woman held up the cup and batted her eyelashes. “Could I trouble you for more seaweed…?”
“Sure,” Danny said. And what the hell, yeah, he could start some tea for Azad while he got her refill. There was a fresh batch of blood-orange tarts, so he grabbed one of those as well. He wasn’t sure if Azad actually liked them, beyond whatever inside joke Siobhan was making, but it was the only food Azad ever ordered. He gave the woman her drink, then rushed over to Azad’s usual spot.
“Glad you got your chair back,” he said breathily. He cleared the abandoned cups from the last patrons to make room. The pleased smile Azad shot his way made it worth the risk of revealing his crush. “What’re you reading?”
Azad closed the book, his thumb holding his place as he turned the cover for Danny to read: The Rise and Fall of Vampiric Cults in Northern Africa.
“Oh,” he said, feeling terribly uncultured. He barely read fiction, and here Azad was, casually reading through some history book.
“You can take a look, if you’d like.” Azad offered him the book.
Danny leaned forward, suddenly aware of how close they were. His eyes drifted to Azad’s lips; he diverted them back to the book. When he reached out to take it, their fingers brushed. He suppressed a shudder, unsure where the sudden chill had come from.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, and skimmed the back cover with unfocused eyes. He couldn’t concentrate, not while imagining soft lips whispering promises and offering him the world, if he’d only listen properly.
When he felt he’d dutifully fake-read enough of the summary, he handed it back. Azad licked his stupidly kissable lips and opened his mouth—no doubt to ask Danny his opinion on a topic he knew less than nothing about—and Danny had to distract them both.
“You into that sort of thing?” Danny blurted out, realized he wasn’t sure if he meant the book or the half-formed idea of the two of them making out by the fire in Azad’s favorite chair, and added, “Vampires, I mean. History of magic. Er, magical… transpirings…”
Azad raised an eyebrow, granite eyes shining. “Magical transpirings are an interest of mine, yes. Vampires, too.” The corners of his lips twitched like he was holding back a grin. “Are you not interested?”
“No,” Danny said before he could stop himself.
“No?” Azad sounded confused, and his eyebrow raised. “Not at all?”
Danny shrugged self-consciously and busied himself with bussing the dishes. “I don’t know much about magic, and my family’s not… we’re very… well, if any of us ended up in the magic quarter, we’d spontaneously combust.”
“…I assume you don’t mean that literally,” Azad said slowly. “Are you saying there are absolutely no magical members of your family at all?”
It was hard not to snort. “Definitely not. I don’t think there’s a more un-magical group. And that doesn’t excuse my not knowing about magic, but I’ve never felt the inclination,” he added in a rush, because he did not want Azad to think less of him.
Azad didn’t seem to be listening anymore. There was a distinctly glassy look to his eyes, and his expression was so lax it made the laugh lines around his mouth disappear.
“Is something wrong?” Danny asked nervously, fearing he’d ruined things.
“Your family isn’t magical,” Azad repeated, then burst into laughter. “That is… perfect, actually. Adorably perfect. And it explains everything.”
Danny’s cheeks heated up, and he reminded himself that Azad was just nice. He was polite, and a friend of Siobhan’s, and he was definitely not flirting.
“Thanks?” And then, with what little dignity he had left, Danny hugged the cluttered tray to his chest and rushed back to the counter.
To his surprise, Azad followed him.
“Wha—?”
“Siobhan,” Azad called with a devilish smirk. “Are you busy?”
Siobhan’s head poked through the bakery door. She looked around suspiciously and wrinkled her nose. “Is something on fire?”
“Merely a few questions, I promise.” Azad waited; Siobhan stepped fully into the café, dusting flour off her hands. “Are the wards on the shop working?”
Danny’s head whipped around, a misplaced sense of betrayal welling up inside him. “Wards?!”
“Of course,” Siobhan said. “I check them every morning.”
“So it would be completely outside the realm of possibility for a human to find their way in?” Azad asked with mock innocence.
“No one gets past the wards unless they’ve got magical blood,” she said. “Humans can’t even see this place—there’s nothing but a brick wall when they look. Very tastefully graffitied. My magic’s not the best, but I can manage that much.”
“You’re magical?” Danny squeaked.
Siobhan quirked her head and gave Danny a once-over. “Fae. Same as you, judging by the way your aura shines.” She turned back to Azad. “Anything else?”
“Well, if you’ll finally share that blood tea recipe—”
Siobhan twirled on her foot and danced back into the kitchen, a tinny laugh fading in her wake.
“I’ve got magic blood? That’s imposs—” Realization dawning on him, he rounded on Azad. “You’re not human.”
“Not for some time, no.” Again he offered Danny his book, this time open to a page with a glossy reproduction of a medieval portrait.
The man in the portrait looked suspiciously like Azad, wearing a deep-burgundy tunic lined with gold-and-pearl beads, embroidery so detailed that Danny wondered how the artist had captured it. He squinted at the caption.
Lord Azad El Bachir, Morocco, 1691
“You’re a vampire?” Why didn’t that worry him as much as it would have a month ago? “Wait, you’re a lord?”
Azad held out his hand. “I think it’s time we meet properly. I’m Azad, vampire. I’ve known Siobhan for a century. I’m unfortunately rather well-known in the magical community. And I’ve been flirting with you for the past seven weeks and getting nowhere, so I’d concluded you weren’t interested because of my background.”
Stunned, Danny hesitated before accepting and shaking Azad’s hand, the chill of it now familiar and welcoming.
“I wish I’d known about the flirting. And the magic. And the ‘I’m not fully human’… thing.”
Azad’s eyebrows rose. “Well, not-quite-human Danny, now that we’re on the same page about who we are… and about the flirting… may I take you out for dinner?”
Danny had no idea what he was.
Danny had no idea what was going on.
Danny had no idea where his life was headed… but he knew one thing: he wanted Azad along for the ride.
“Absolutely. Just… maybe not in the magic quarter? When Mamie Mari finds out I’ve been accidentally working in a magical café this whole time, she’s gonna flip. Don’t want to make things worse until she’s forgiven me for that.”
Azad took Danny’s hand in his, waiting for Danny’s nod before pressing a feather-light kiss to a knuckle. “As you wish.”