The coffee was good.
That was the first thing Soha noticed about the apartment that wasn't alarming — the coffee was actually good, the specific warm bitterness of something brewed with care, and she was drinking it wrapped in a wool blanket in a stranger's lap while her freshly shaved skin prickled in the cold air that pressed against the frosted window.
The second thing she noticed was that the blonde woman was watching them.
Not openly. From the corner of the kitchen, her enormous boobs resting on the counter edge as she leaned with her own cup, her golden horns catching the lamplight, her eyes moving between them with the expression of someone who has decided they find something amusing but hasn't said so yet.
"You both are really very close," she said.
The amusement had made it into her voice. Warm. Slightly teasing. The voice of a woman who has watched enough of something to feel qualified to comment on it.
"You love each other."
