The tea smells delicious—an aroma of dried grass and ripe stone fruit. But the cup is too hot to hold. She lifts it gingerly, takes the tiniest sip, and sets it down again. Blowing softly, she tries to disperse the steam, but it only slithers and curls away. She drums her fingers on the table as she glances around.
At the corner table, the man folds a white napkin with quiet concentration. His movements are precise and practised, yet unhurried. The teapot at his elbow remains untouched, as if forgotten.
The napkin transforms with each careful crease, becoming unrecognisable from its original form. When he’s finished, he inspects it from all angles before placing it beside his teapot with deliberate care.
She marvels at how something so ordinary can become something so striking. Distracted, she takes another sip—too big. She anticipates the pain even before she feels it: sharp needle-pricks radiating from the back of her tongue to the tip. She sucks in air, knowing the burn will linger.
The man looks up—a calm gaze, a twinkle in his eye—as his focus settles instantly on her. When he’s sure he has her attention, he sighs: a long inhale, a quick exhale. Even across the tables, she imagines she can hear the rush of air pressing through his nostrils.
She blushes and looks away. He couldn’t have known, yet he does this every time: ignoring her until she does something awkward—a clumsy sip, tea sloshing over the rim—that lays bare the gulf between his grace and her jittery grip.
She dreams—no, fantasises—of going over, lifting the napkin by its elegant neck, and dipping it headfirst into the boiling brew. For once, she wants to see that serene countenance slip—just enough to lift his brows in surprise.
With the same measured grace as he folded the napkin, the man finally pours his tea. He closes his eyes and leans back in his chair. An almost imperceptible smile stretches his lips as he inhales the rising steam.
Beside him, the napkin swan rests in perfect stillness—its white wings tucked in, its neck held high. Aloof, but on its guard.
