Emmie glanced up at the girl, small smile as she accepted the cup of coffee. "Nella. Great, thanks." she said. She inclined her head. Was she... nervous? Emmie squeezed the water from a few strands of her hair. It was cute. "My name's Emilia. Emmie." Emmie sat quietly for a moment,  studying the girl. She really did look soft. Soft colors, soft skin, soft hair. When she'd been younger, Emmie had been jealous of girls like that. Emmie had always been a little rough, wild curls and steely eyes. Nella was artistic too. Emmie's eyes widened a little. How strange that their  window exchange felt a bit like a secret. She bit her lip. It seemed like it should have been the right time to tell her she'd liked the painting, or thank her, or something like that. Instead, she felt like it would have been a bit wrong to bring it up here. "It feels like I should've introduced myself sooner. We're neighbors, right?" Like she wasn't sure, when they both were well aware. Emmie shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry about that. My dad and I aren't the most social types." Emmie pushed her dripping fringe out of her eyes.<br/><br/>It was odd, seeing her neighbor up close. It wasn't like they hadn't been in each other's orbit for a while. Still, it felt curiously intimate exchanging names. It felt significant, and Emmie wasn't entirely sure why. "Oh, actually," she laughed suddenly. "Could I get some cream and sugar?" she'd gotten distracted.<br/><br/>She glanced around the cafe. It was fairly empty. "Maybe some company, too?" she grinned. Easy expression, because Emmie rarely took anyone too seriously. It wasn't like she meant to pick on the girl. In truth, she really was curious about her as a person, but Nella's expression was too hard to leave alone. Nella was making such transparent faces it was hard to resist prying a little. She wanted to know what the other girl would do. Emmie wasn't sure when her neighbor had become quite so interesting, but it seemed unavoidable now.  "I mean, if you can spare it. I know you're working." Emmie shrugged. It was Nella's fault, in a way. She'd been the one peeping. And now, standing there, making a face like that, could she really expect Emmie not to be inquisitive?