They sit at the small table in the corner, keeping their voices below the murmer in the room. He looks nervous, knees bouncing. His fingers entwine in front of him as though in prayer, hiding his mouth and further muffling his sound. Before him, his coffee cup stands a good six inches away from hers.
Her knees don’t shake, but her upper body seesaws from the chair’s backrest. Her back slightly bows forward in an effort to hear more clearly. Her ears are big and stick out between the strands of oily hair.
Both adjust their glasses occasionally and continuously nod while the other is speaking. Despite their slight nervous flickers, they know each other well. Their eyes don’t show the glimmer of a new romance, but they aren’t natives of this city.