She shrugged, enjoying the company across the booth from her, flattered by his curiosity of what she was into. “Well, I like all forms of art but right now the creative process of designing clothes is pretty all consuming.  I’ve even applied to a few fashion schools.”  Shrugging in acceptance, “I’m not sure if this is the direction I want to go in but felt it’s time to set some goals and work towards them.”  Most guys were too busy trying to make a good impression by talking about themselves or their bank accounts.  “But a favorite medium would be something malleable, oil paint, clay,<i>Play-Doh,</i>fabric.  I like working with my hands.”  Unconscious of the guilty appendages working an imaginary medium in front of her, mimicking her mental idea.<br/><br/>Curious to learn about him, Emily asked what he enjoyed doing on his off time.  It’d be a crying shame if she couldn’t find something in common that they shared as a hobby.  As he was about to answer, their medium pie arrived, piping hot and smelling of all sorts of goodness in one crusty frame.  Listening to his answer, Emily kept eye contact while plating a slice each.  It was a talent she’d learned at the café, doing something with her hands while keeping focused on the customer at the counter.   Tempted to take a greedy bite, the idea of crying in front of Boris from the scalding the bubbling hot cheese would cause, she decided to be patient.