[It's a rare and wonderful day, because Hawke has 1) the day off, 2) a double espresso with cinnamon, and 3) Slave to the Grind's only sofa all to herself. A few people have tried to join her on it, but she gave them that look, the one with the eyebrow, and they changed their minds. The eyebrow comes in very handy sometimes.
So she sits there alone, drinking her coffee in smug solitude.
For now.]
So she sits there alone, drinking her coffee in smug solitude.
For now.]
The worst part is knowing they would have managed it!
Date: 2016-05-19 11:45 am (UTC)[She grimaces and finishes her coffee in one long draught, then looks mournfully into the empty cup.]
I'm going to need a lot more coffee first, though. I'm hoping you'll come along to lend moral support. Or mock me in my misery, whatever seems good at the time.
[Because it's her own fault, of course. She didn't have to go into business with Hubert. Except she did, because someone had to make sure those refugee workers were being watched over. Hubert wasn't going to stir himself an inch for them, that was for sure.]