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It was a beautiful day, and Espresso was stuck inside. Had he been following his normal routine, the one he stubbornly trusted to guide him to the ends he sought, that would have been fine. He probably wouldn’t have even bothered to let light into his laboratory, excusing it as an “outside influence” that would affect his work. He supposed his past self was right in the end―it was distracting him. Why that was the case, and why he allowed it to do so, surely both were born from the same reason as to why Espresso couldn’t get this formula to work. Too much contamination had tainted the reagents, and now the final product was an uncoordinated mess.
“When the solution is unclear, you should get some fresh air~!”
An irritant worse than sand itched from within his own mind, Espresso letting out an audible groan at the words that weren’t his own but were nevertheless etched within his head. Pinching the bridge of his nose hard enough that his glasses became loose from their position sitting on top of it, Espresso then proceeded to rub his eyes with his thumb and index finger. Once he removed his hand, his glasses fell back crooked, and he almost didn’t even want to correct them. That was the surest sign of anything that even if he didn’t like the words of wisdom, they held up as an absolute truth.
What could he do? What would be the most optimal solution to get through this so-called “funk” as it were? Should he follow the usual advice of the one whose words caused him to progress down this path of thinking, he would go down to the local café and pick up a latte. However, the thought of actually proceeding with such a plan of action only made his shoulders tense and a shiver run down his spine as he considered how unpleasant that would be. Cafés were notoriously crowded and loud, and though some found the white noise of chitter chatter to be a calming environment for deep thought, Espresso was absolutely not of that sort. He needed complete and absolute silence to focus, save for the soothing drip of his concoction coming to life. Besides, he was never satisfied by the taste of a coffee that wasn’t made by him.
While pacing around his laboratory in thought, his hand absentmindedly placed itself on a shelf full of items he’d had delivered there but hadn’t brought back home. He hardly went there at all, usually making it through the hours of the day by consuming as much caffeine as possible. Sleep wasn’t on his schedule, and yet thinking that way often led to the embarrassment of waking up after a harsh crash. Just like last night, when he’d found himself on the bench near the window of his lab with a blanket thrown over his form. Had he done that himself, or if it had been a kind soul passing by who put him there, he didn’t know what was worse. Ever since coming to this kingdom, he found himself hitting limits he didn’t know he had, and it frustrated him to no end. Why, oh why, couldn’t Espresso just work at all hours of the day?
His fingers brushed against a package, and he found his curiosity get the better of him. A lot of these he hadn’t even acknowledged their existence, let alone open them. Pulling at the string that bound it and then unraveling the paper, he was quickly reminded why he had ordered this in the first place. A compendium of the use of coffee magic in a certain land far from both the kingdom he resided within and the Republic. Resources from that place were rare, but this was an incredible find he just had to obtain. An old bookkeeper friend from the Republic offered to sell it to him, so naturally he took the opportunity. He couldn’t believe he forgot about that. How difficult, the more Espresso found himself not working, the more he found excuses as to why he shouldn’t.
There was only one way to defeat this internal conquest, and that was to simply obey the part of his brain that was rationalizing taking a break. He normally never would have, but for his eyes to grow so excited at the idea of focusing on something other than the slow drip of a concoction, it was honestly rather pathetic. His subconscious must have been screaming at him, but Espresso’s walls were too thick to listen to it regularly. Well, no more. He’d listen to that voice, and he’d let it guide him to wherever he could regain his focus best, maybe even with a new perspective.
Espresso held the book close to his chest, letting out a delicate sigh as he did so. He’d been doing that a lot lately, it was starting to become a strange habit. He furrowed his brow, stepped out of his office, and immediately he was forced to shield his eyes from the sun blaring down from above. Despite the amount of sunlight he’d allowed into his laboratory that day, it was still dark enough in there that this kind of sharp brightness practically made him shrivel.
Alchemist would likely make fun of him if she were to see this reaction, likely comparing him to her slothful older brother. Despite her own knack for staying indoors, Alchemist went out on excursions to pick out her own reagents when she could. She even shared some with Espresso, one of the few children here whose company he could tolerate interrupting him. She might have even been the person to place him on that bench last night, a surprisingly sturdy sort thanks to having to lug around her sibling. Although, he doubted she would have been the kind to draw the blinds on him. If anything, she understood the importance of keeping a neutral environment, and sunlight was anything but.
As Espresso proceeded down the chocostone road, he contemplated who the mysterious person who put him to sleep actually was. Could it have been Snow Sugar? No, they were certainly far too weak to pull off such a feat without waking Espresso up. Not to mention, had they called upon their infamous Snow King, it would create such a ruckus that would have been noticeable to Espresso immediately upon waking up.
Then, in that case, was it his former research partner? A woman who Espresso certainly never expected to run into here of all places, and yet their paths crossed time and time again. Had he been as sentimental as their former colleagues, it could have been called fate, but Espresso just referred to it as annoyingly serendipitous. Then again, had it been her, Latte, he would have woken up to find his laboratory “tidied up.” It was the most infuriating aspect of her character, always so focused on things like “organization” that took away from actual work. No, it definitely wasn’t her, because his papers were all in the correct stacks he’d left them in. He remembered now, he checked those first thing after waking up, a habit he’d been forced to adopt from their school days.
Crossing off the lines of people who would even bother to enter his laboratory, let alone known to let him rest rather than wake his collapsed form, the list dwindled further and further down. Of all the candidates, one stuck out among all of them as likely the most obvious answer, but not one that Espresso wanted to acknowledge. No...No, it wouldn’t have been that cookie. Espresso grimaced at the thought. Had it been them, that person he so desperately wished he could still pretend he didn’t know, surely they would have made a big scene about carrying him back home, just like last time they found him in such a state.
Nevertheless, a faint glimmer of a memory persisted. He should have been entirely unconscious, but as he was the sort of person to sleep lightly as it was, any disturbance to his body would have likely roused it somewhat. Perhaps it was all a dream, but he did recall the scent of something overly sweet, so unlike the bitter aroma of his laboratory. Scent, as well as...Taste. Who knew, maybe he ended up drooling onto them and their flavor stuck to his spit. How embarrassing if that were the case, which only made Espresso even more tense at the idea that it was them .
His aimless walk brought him to a bridge in the middle of a park, covered by a freshly bloomed wisteria tree. The purple flowering branches cascaded like a waterfall over the arched path, a picturesque scene captured right out of a painting that would have hung from the walls of the Republic’s museum of fine art. Book still clutched to Espresso’s chest, he allowed the path to continue to guide him towards it, finding its beauty and visual serenity a suitable place to clear his head. Along with that, the sound of a bubbling soda water stream below wasn’t all that unlike the comforting noises of his lab. Surely, he’d found the right spot to spend the rest of his day.
Lifting the wisteria that hung low and blocked the path from the side he was on, he didn’t even mind if a few of the petals caught onto his wavy brown hair. The scent was pleasant, a little on the sweeter side, but not entirely overwhelming thanks to the light wind that scattered it about. The natural canopy casted a shadow onto the bridge, one that still allowed adequate light for reading without strain.
Espresso wouldn’t consider himself tunnel-visioned, but he wouldn’t want to describe himself with that kind of demeaning phrase anyway. Despite that, he was forced to acknowledge it wasn’t an inadequate descriptor. For example, here he was, so focused on the idea of taking a break for the first time since Baker knows when, he didn’t even notice the very cookie he was thinking about just moments earlier. He didn’t notice them until he found his gaze drawn to the other side of the bridge, meeting a pair of sparkling blue eyes as bright as the sky that was shaded out of view by the very tree they stood under.
Of all the cookies in this damned kingdom―
“Espresso...!” Madeleine’s voice started low, but ended in the booming overwhelming loudness that Espresso had come to know and loathe. He squinted in annoyance in an instant, and before he could even make a run for it, he found Madeleine’s arms spread wide, almost the width of the small space they stood on. Espresso recognized this. This was the “goalkeeper” stance, the one that allowed Madeleine to quickly dart to whichever side Espresso would attempt to make his escape and catch him before he even had a chance. Annoying. Annoying, annoying, annoying. He hated Madeleine, Espresso hated him so much.
Espresso didn’t have a choice. He’d wandered into a flower’s trap like an unknowing fly attracted to its scent, and now he’d suffocate in sweetness. Rather than struggle, he’d die in dignity. He did not run, and he did not approach Madeleine. Instead, he sat down, opened his book, and began to “read.” It would be impossible to do so with someone as loud as Madeleine around, but at the very least he could pretend until the other chose to leave him alone―if such a thing were even in character for him.
“Huh? What’s with that reaction, my friend?” Madeleine made an indignant grunt, and soon the airy swish of a long blue cape brushed against Espresso’s cheek. The larger of the two cookies sat down next to Espresso, his armor clinking and stretching with each and every little movement of his body. Didn’t that get irritating to hear after a while? Or perhaps it only made sense that Madeleine was so loud, he couldn’t even hear the subtle noises coming from his own body.
Espresso didn’t answer, playing the long game of remaining silent and unapproachable as always. Despite its failures in the past, he always stuck with it in hopes it would work. Sometimes it did, and that was why he stuck to it. It seemed the most effective, rather than waste his brilliant mind on banal discussion as to why he should be left alone. However, time proved again and again that what was obvious to Espresso was far from so for others. He should have been the only one to set out from the Republic on his quest, not forced to cooperate with the proud pedigree of the knights. Espresso was the one who worked for his position, not just born into it.
“Hm...Well, I’m glad you appear to be taking a break,” Madeleine remarked, his long cream colored hair flowing delicately in the wind as he raised his chin towards the obstructed sky. “You’ve been working quite hard lately, though that’s expected of you, isn’t it? Rather, I’m happy to see you actively choosing to pace yourself. What brought this on though? Did you grow weary of burning the candles at both ends? Or perhaps you wish to avoid collapsing in your lab like last night?”
“How do you know about that?” Espresso’s desperation came through, uncontained thanks to becoming immediately flustered upon hearing the private information leaked from such a terrible source. Naturally, that meant he broke his own strategy, and as he found himself glaring up at those unfathomably clear blue eyes, he couldn’t help but dread if he fell for a bluff.
“Aha, how else would I know?” Madeleine gloated, his pride only twisting the knife further. “Naturally, I was the one who rescued you.”
No. No. That was decidedly not what Espresso wanted to hear, not in the slightest. So infuriated, he was struck silent with his jaw left hanging, staring up at Madeleine in horror.
“Hm, so I can assume you didn’t suspect that it was me, did you?” Madeleine smirked with such smugness it naturally cancelled out any heroic aura he was after. “I can’t comprehend why you wear such shock on your face, my friend. I’ve come to your rescue often enough that it should be obvious that I’m the one saving you, even if it is from yourself.”
Espresso didn’t know what to do at first. Then, a second wave of energy struck him, one that he’d been missing all day. He pouted, shut his book, and before Madeleine could get another word out, Espresso bonked him on the head with the rather heavy tome. The harder cookie would hardly crumble under such an attack, but it was enough to get him to nurse his head in confusion.
“Ow!” Madeleine exclaimed. “What was that for—?”
“For leaving the blinds open in my laboratory, of course,” Espresso answered with a huff as he faced forward.
“...Huh?!”
“You heard me,” Espresso huffed, slamming the book in his lap. “I didn’t even think about it until now, but there were some reagents in my lab that could have had their quality affected by copious amounts of sunlight. That could very easily explain why my latest concoction was a complete and utter failure. If you so wish to bring some sunlight in my life, at least have the decency to drop me off in my home instead of disturbing my lab. Otherwise, in the future I expect you to lay me down where you did and then leave without touching anything else.”
Madeleine’s watchful gaze was upon him, and Espresso could feel the heat of the sun passing through the natural shade of the wisteria tree. He knew his words sounded ludicrous. Rather, he knew the source of his complaint was even worse. Compared to earlier when he feared the thought of confronting Madeleine with his suspicions, the confession had settled a newfound panic within the coffee cookie. Clinging to his book on his lap and memorizing the lines in the brick of the bridge, Espresso was forced to admit something to himself that he’d been putting off.
He’d actually grown to hate Madeleine a little less these days. As for why, he really didn’t want to say. It disturbed him greatly, not understanding how he could betray his logic and even his initial gut feelings that Madeleine was nothing but trouble. There was no excuse he could give either, which made the changes in his heart all the more incomprehensible. Something had tainted the formula to his success, and it was all thanks to Madeleine. Stupidly sweet Madeleine who kept looking out for him even when Espresso gave him no reason to.
“Huh...I see,” Madeleine’s voice was softer than Espresso had ever heard it; not a whisper, but the pompous attitude Espresso had grown to loathe was nigh unheard. “I had not realized it was so important to you. Well, my friend, I will keep it in mind, should a ‘next time’ arise. Although, I do wish you would simply go to bed when your body grows weary.”
“Why?” Espresso ran his palm over the cover of the book on his lap, doing anything to keep his mind preoccupied with anything other than the overbearing cookie sitting next to him.
“Why? It should be obvious!” Madeleine’s incredulous cry brought back with it the return of usual character, much to Espresso’s chagrin. “You’ll crash eventually, just as you did last night, and just as I did as a child when also trying to find methods to keep myself awake longer. Only, back then, I used sugar, and once the brief spurt of energy ran out, I could hardly even get myself to crawl into bed!”
“That’s because sugar is nowhere near as strong as caffeine when it comes to keeping the body motivated,” Espresso snapped quickly, “sugar highs are ineffective and just add unnecessary sweetness. It’s just like you.”
“Ah?” Madeleine suddenly moved in closer, Espresso feeling the man’s breath hitting his cheek. The sudden rush of wind caused the wizard’s back to straighten, staring straight ahead. “Haha, would that mean you find me sweet?”
For some unknown reason, the pointed question made Espresso think. He should have just retaliated, just said yes, in the worst way possible, but something else came to mind. Something he couldn’t quite figure out, but the moment he could taste the air coming from Madeleine’s mouth, a solution came to mind. What had it been, that soft thing that touched his lips the previous night? He’d just written it off as his head rolling around, but he wasn’t sure anymore. Madeleine tasted familiar to whatever it was that he pressed his lips to...Or pressed onto his lips instead.
“Madeleine,” Espresso turned his head to face the other cookie’s face head on. Strong jawed and handsome, blue eyes sparkled brighter than the obscured daylight sky above. Espresso furrowed his brow and chose his words carefully, as he always did. “Last night, what part of my head touched yours? Specifically my mouth. I believe I tasted you last night.”
Madeleine’s face went pale. His warm skin grew cold, and the smug smirk on his face fell entirely. He let out a laugh despite the fact that his face was no longer smiling, and before Espresso could grab a hold of him, Madeleine was standing up and walking off the bridge.
“I hope you’ll rest well tonight, Espresso!” Madeleine shouted towards the bridge with his back facing it, gradually furthering the distance between himself and it with every pace. “Let’s see each other again sometime!”
Just like that, Madeleine was running away from the question that was apparently too difficult to answer. Espresso had no choice but to let his suspicions rise as to what exactly it was that touched his mouth last night, but he had a good guess. Honestly, what a terrible person Madeleine could be. Selfishly taking what he believed was owed to him, not having earned it in the slightest. He certainly didn’t deserve to take anything from Espresso, not like that. Getting to his feet, Espresso paced over towards the direction where Madeleine fled. Lifting up the wisteria flowers with his arm, Espresso could see that Madeleine was still in view.
“Madeleine,” Espresso called the man’s name loudly. Not a shout, but moreso a command, the kind he would use sometimes in class to scare a student into obeying his word.
As expected, Madeleine halted in his tracks, slowly turning his head in bewilderment. Letting out a deep sigh, Espresso took a few more steps out past the wisteria, enough so that he wouldn’t have to be holding it above his head. Wrapping his arms around the book, he kept his focus on the man running away from him.
“I’m going to be coming back here tomorrow,” Espresso stated. “I didn’t hate it, and provided the weather is as good as today, I’ll likely return.”
Madeleine’s body turned about halfway, eyes a color of blue that put the sky to shame in its attempt to compete with their beauty. A wide gaze fell into a warm one, Madeleine’s smile less smug and more sincere in how it stretched across his face.
“Is that so?” Madeleine returned, his voice naturally echoing across the space between them. “Then I shall attempt to join you, my friend!”
“I don’t know what time it will be,” Espresso added, “or how long I’ll stay. Also, I expect you to answer me tomorrow. If you run, I’ll have to bring detective Almond in to make you confess. Don’t make me go to such troublesome lengths.”
“Ah...Ahaha~” Madeleine ran a gloved hand through his hair, the creamy locks swaying with his touch and the light breeze that lifted his cape. “Give me a day's time, then. I’ll explain myself to you tomorrow for certain.”
“Good,” Espresso returned, finding the corners of his lips turning up in such a natural fashion that it made his whole body feel light as a feather. “Don’t keep me waiting tomorrow too long, then.”
Madeleine waved at him one last time, and Espresso found himself retreating back towards under the wisteria. What was wrong with him? He ought to have simply conjured up a spell to incapacitate him right then and there. Violating Espresso like that, how dare that Madeleine cookie do something so despicable?
Left alone to listen to the logical side of his brain as he often did, the little voice in the back of his mind sang the same tune as his oddly rapidly beating heart. He sat upon the side of the bridge and found his gaze drawn to the branches above, the book he’d brought with him forgotten about entirely. He wouldn’t be able to focus anyway, much less care enough about the subject when something this strange was happening to him. He’d been fully contaminated, and all it took was a little sunlight and a kiss of sugar.