emily-mcdonald
I entered the apartment to see a dark haired-thin faced woman with her hair pulled up into a ballerina bun. She was wearing a black longsleeve turtleneck and dark cigarette jeans, with some of the prettiest, most delicate hands. Long, nude nails that shaped into an oval and in her hands was a steaming cup of coffee. She looked so comfortable yet so refined. She offered me a cup. I don't drink coffee but I wanted something to do with my hands so I accepted, and to my surprise it was the best coffee I'd ever had in my life, I was addicted the second it touched my tongue. "This is wonderful!" I said, "Well of course it is, I am after all, you. I know your tastes all too well." That's when I realized what was going on...
