The small cafe that Lucio had brought him to was certainly an interesting establishment. Mismatched chairs, a variety of tables that differed in material, size, and height. Ansel's eyes looked around curiously, scoping out a place to sit if Lucio so desired, as he wasn't sure whether Lucio wanted them to take their time and enjoy their modest breakfast with one another or keep on the move, eating as they hauled themselves to the store. Ansel figured there was nothing wrong with moving slowly this morning. Hell, Lucio had even bothered to take an extra shower just for him, so perhaps his lover had the same mindset. They had all the time in the world today to do whatever they pleased, and Ansel planned on savoring every moment he spent with his darling. In a corner of the cafe sat two exceptionally comfy looking armchairs, one a deep coppery red and the other a lilac tone that reminded Ansel of Lucio. The morning light cascaded through the cafe windows and lit up the sitting area nicely. If they were going to sit and talk, Ansel thought that to be the best place to do so.<br/><br/>With Lucio's arm wrapped around his own, the two men walked forward toward the counter where a young barista waited to take their order. The young man couldn't have been more than eighteen years old, fresh-faced with pubescent acne still dotting the bottom of his chin. He smiled brightly at the two, more so than Ansel would have expected for someone who was working in an almost empty cafe. "Morning, gentlemen, what can I get for you?" he asked, his fingers practically twitching at the possibility of having something to occupy his time, even if it was only for a few minutes, at most.<br/><br/>Ansel looked up at the menu, pleasantly surprised to see a variety of offerings that sounded appetizing. After a few seconds of contemplation, the professor nodded. "I'll have a hazelnut latte and a spinach and feta croissant," he said pleasantly, turning toward Lucio and waiting for his darling to place his own order. Before Lucio could even finish speaking, Ansel retrieved his wallet and plucked out some bills, both to cover the order and to leave the eager barista a generous tip. He gave his young lover a sideways look to silence any protests and handed the money over to the teenager. "Thank you," he said politely, smiling. When the young man disappeared beyond the counter to prepare their order, Ansel gentle led his paramour to the small sitting area he had noticed earlier, pointing toward the lilac chair. "Sit," Ansel commanded, though his tone was genial.<br/><br/>"I'm pleased that you're interested in having some of those pancakes again," Ansel said lightly as he sat himself down in the copper armchair, reclining and allowing himself to sink into the squishy cushions. "They were always my favorite when I was a child. Still are, if I'm honest." Ansel made a short mental note to dig into his grandmother's old recipes so he could find more German treats he thought Lucio would enjoy. Anything he could do to bring a smile to Lucio's face was worth the effort. "And I'm doubly excited to have genuine fish and chips. I've always had the suspicion that American mimicry just didn't quite live up to the real thing."<br/><br/>After a few minutes of light conversation, the barista came and placed their orders on the small wooden table that sat between the two men. Ansel thanked the boy and lifted his mug, inhaling the nutty aroma and the sharp scent of the espresso. He blew on the mug lightly, placing his lips at the edge of the mug and grinning to himself as the milk foam tickled his upper lip. After taking a few sips, Ansel set the mug back down on the table. "That is excellent," he said, beyond satisfied with his beverage. Normally a very careful drinker, Ansel hadn't yet realized that a bit of foam had stuck to his mustache, marring the otherwise serious look he usually had on his face.