Dancing smoke fluttered around the ceiling, illuminated by the lazy sunlight through the tall kitchen window. The window was one of two identical windows on this floor of the apartment, but their almost 2 meter length was always enough to brighten the whole studio. Shadows of hanging leaves and flower buds stretched across a polished wooden table and linoleum flooring before stopping at a well worn red couch and a well decorated wall. Herbs were strung from the curtain rod, drying lavender, rosemary, and rose stems dried in the late afternoon sun. They mingled with the scent of sandalwood and jasmine honey that swirled from a cone of incense on the sill. A copper kettle also caught the sunlight with a dull shine as steam pushed to escape every crevice. Slowly over the course of a few more wispy seconds the kettle began to whistle. The screeching ceased as quickly as they started, a masterful hand snatching the tea off the stove.<br/><br/>“Io! Are you hosting me or am I hosting you? Come spend some time with your sister!”<br/><br/>Cautious but heavy footfalls plinked as a sturdy young man climbed down from a loft located in the far corner of the room. In one arm he held a precarious stack of papers and notebooks with a pencil in his teeth as he turned and wobbled his way over to his sibling. His feet landed in an assured way as he avoided knocking over a lamp and walking around a pile of laundry behind the couch. The sunlight then shone on his hair which only curled in the front, laying at a volume only achieved by extra-hold product. His wire glasses snuck their way down his softly curved nose with each step until he could push them back in place after dropping the stack on the wooden table.<br/><br/>“Believe it or not, right now this is a little more important to me than tea”<br/><br/>Io’s sister ignored the comment and poured two cups of tea. One cup swirled with blue flower buds, the tea itself turning a shade of indigo, and the other, a deep mug, filled with clear water before steeping to a dark brown color. Soon after came a splash of milk into the mug, and a squeeze of lemon into the cup caused the contents to pop from indigo to a rich magenta. The girl set the kettle back on the stove and floated down into a chair with her cup of butterfly pea flower tea. As she landed her shoulder length poofy curls sprung and bounced, the same color as her brother’s. She hummed a bit as she blew on the surface of her beverage; a previously placed ice cube danced circles around the rim of the cup. The whole act seemed ritualistic, and to the girl it likely was. She breathed in the steam before sipping her tea and setting the cup down with a pleasant expression, her dark brown eyes squinting with a smile.<br/><br/>“Now you may tell me about what happened today” the girl gestured to her brother in affirmation.<br/><br/>“Aife, have you not seen a TV today? Radio? Talked to literally anybody in town?”<br/><br/>Aife frowned and sipped her tea again, “I’ve been working since 6 this morning, and there’s no television in the shop. Plants aren’t a fan of the morning news.”<br/><br/>“When you see mom she’ll want to talk to you about this. A full train car of people disappeared this morning. Poof! In between stops just gone. They are calling it a kidnapping done by a radical group,” Io was flipping through a small sketchpad, and started gnawing on the eraser of his pencil. There was no doubt in Aife’s mind that he had been there as soon as he heard about the incident. It was his mission in life to know all of the happenings in the city. The fact that it helped him keep his salary with the Buckinghamshire Examiner was an afterthought. He truly loved being down in the dirt, at least in a more metaphorical way than Aife did.<br/><br/>“I’ll be more careful when I take the train home, then” Aife took a long sip. Thinking less of her brother and more of the train now. The train was ingrained into the city and people often took it for granted. It was pretty depended on in order for daily life to continue so it being threatened also threatened the ability for everyones’ lives to go smoothly. The whole city would be disturbed if the threatening continues.<br/><br/>“Yes, please be careful. Who will take care of the shop if you’re kidnapped?” Iolan chuckled and finally sipped from his own mug, “and who would I tell all the daily happenings to?”<br/><br/>There’re plenty of people to take care of the shop, “Oh no! What would I do without all the gossip you and mum tell me about,” Aife snickered at her sibling across from her. They continued to chat about life and how their second cousin Jamie was getting married in Maldives, how mum was trying hot yoga again despite her affinity for heat exhaustion, how Io’s friend recently went paleo, and about the new book series that Aife has fallen in love with.<br/><br/>“You really need to do more reading, Io. How can you be a good writer if you don’t read?”<br/><br/>“I always read articles by my coworkers, I do editing and reading almost all day!” Io was on his second mug of black tea, this time with no milk but a little spoon of honey instead.<br/><br/>“If you only read pieces from within your environment then how will your department evolve? You should at least be reading articles by the best in your field. Get some influences from your favorite journalists!”<br/><br/>Io watched the last of the incense smoke swirl to the ceiling, “Yeah I suppose you’re right. Since when do you know so much about journalism?”<br/><br/>Aife shrugged and pulled her almost black hair back into a ponytail, her curls making a bouncy poof, a few short pieces falling away and framing her face. “I do the same thing to help me in the shop. I read about the best horticulturalists and books that they’ve written about their work.” Aife thought of all the most beautiful bonsai trees she had seen and the giant golden pothos in her good friend Esme’s house. “Hey, I think I should be going before it gets too late,” Aife turned to look out the window, many people now heading home from work.