i do adore

Before the accident, Kieran had harboured a deep fondness for winter's charm. The cosy ambiance of a crackling fire, enveloped in soft blankets with a steaming cup of chocolate milk in hand, and soothing music in the background, was his idea of bliss. He'd often playfully invite his brother, a friend, or even his parents to share his blanket, revelling in a communal warmth that the summer sun could never replicate.

However, now winter brought a starkly different experience. The cold seemed to seep into his bones, causing his joints and muscles to ache with a persistent, throbbing pain, as if each chill was undoing the progress he had made in his recovery. Today, the biting air was particularly harsh, compelling him to rely on his cane for support as he navigated the city streets. Despite his resolve to venture outside daily, the temptation to remain cocooned at home grew stronger with each frosty morning.

Yet, Kieran persevered, pushing through the discomfort until he reached the haven of a nearby coffee shop. The brief ten-minute walk was a triumph in his eyes. Leaning his cane against the counter, he rubbed his hands together, breathing in the warm air, and greeted the barista with a weary but genuine smile.  “Hi! What do you recommend? It is cold and I want to warm up. Something with chocolate, maybe? Or caramel?” he asked, his voice tinged with hopeful anticipation.

The barista’s warmth and approachability immediately put Kieran at ease, dissolving some of the chill that clung to him. He rubbed his hands together briskly, a brief gesture to chase away the cold, before tucking them into the refuge of his pockets. His cane rested against the counter. His lips pressed together thoughtfully, considering his options, but it seemed the barista was already a step ahead.

Hot chocolate!

“That sounds absolutely perfect, thank you!” Kieran's response was swift and enthusiastic. “There's really nothing like a good hot chocolate in the midst of December, right?” He flashed a small, appreciative grin. Extracting his hand from his pocket, he gently reclaimed his cane, mindful not to leave it behind in his newfound warmth.

As the barista set to work on the hot chocolate, she chimed in agreement with Kieran's nostalgic musings. Her own fondness for cosy fireside moments resonated with him. “Oh, you're making me homesick! The one thing I miss most about not living in an apartment is having a real fireplace,” he lamented with a playful tone. “I tried an electric one, but it just doesn’t have that authentic crackle and scent.” His affection for the ambiance of a real fire was evident.

Soon enough, a steaming cup of hot chocolate was placed before him. Kieran inhaled the rich, comforting aroma, his face lighting up with anticipation. He listened intently to her instructions for the drink, nodding in approval.

“That sounds perfect, thank you,” he said, his gaze shifting between the cup and his cane, a moment of realisation dawning. “Uh, could I possibly get something to eat as well? Whatever you’d recommend. And, if you don’t mind, could you help me carry it over?” He gestured towards a table with a hint of sheepishness. “I’d hate to end up spilling everything,” he added, gesturing with the cane in hand.

As the barista inquired about his origins, Kieran responded with a smile that held a tinge of nostalgia. “No, I moved here a few days ago. I come from Thornwick, a village more up North, near the mountains,” he shared. There was a fondness in his voice for Thornwick, a place that, despite its simplicity, had been his cherished home, and he missed it.

The conversation turned to bonfires, lighting up Kieran's eyes with excitement. “We had an enormous bonfire back home when I graduated,” he recalled, his smile broadening. “It was huge with family and friends. I have to say, it was one of the best experiences.” His expression softened, reflecting on his parents’ pride and the event, especially since he had graduated later than usual.

When the girl apologised, Kieran was quick to reassure her. “No need to apologise, really. I manage to walk fairly well for the most part,” he said. “It's just that I’m a bit unsteady at times.” He also knew the practical difficulty of balancing his cane, a hot drink, and a snack simultaneously.

Upon the suggestion of a cupcake, his face lit up with appreciation. “A cupcake sounds wonderful, thanks!” With that, he made his way to the booth. His walk was easy enough and he didn’t rely on his cane much now that he’d warmed up.

Kieran acknowledged the barista’s observation with a nod, his smile tinged with a mix of acceptance and resolve. “It is, but change can be necessary at times,” he said. His fondness for his family and his hometown was evident, yet there was an underlying sense of needing distance. The memories of what he had lost there, especially in the wake of Noah’s passing, weighed heavily on him. Kieran felt the need to escape a place where he was constantly seen as a victim, the boy who once couldn’t even push his own wheelchair.

The conversation gently shifted to his injury. Kieran hesitated for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he stirred his hot chocolate. He was careful with his words, not seeking sympathy but open to sharing a significant chapter of his life. After all, he was proud of his recovery.

“Well, I was in an accident when I was younger. I had… an incomplete spinal cord injury,” he began, his tone reflective yet composed. “I was fortunate enough that it wasn’t a complete fracture, but it’s something that likely won’t ever fully heal. That’s why I need this,” he continued, gently tapping his cane that now leaned against the table, “especially in the cold, or if I’m out for a while.”

Kieran responded to the girl's empathetic comment with a smile. “It's been a journey, for sure. It took á lot of time and effort to get where I am now,” he acknowledged. “Thankfully, I don't always need the cane—mainly just for longer outings or in the cold.” He shared a bittersweet sentiment about winter, a season he once relished but now found challenging due to the cold's impact on his body.

To his surprise, the girl wrote down her number and handed it to him. It was an unexpected but kind gesture. “Thanks, I appreciate it,” he said with a grateful nod, touched by her offer of help. As she returned to her duties, Kieran took out his phone to save the number. Realising he didn't know her name, he chuckled at the oversight and saved her contact as Red-head , a playful moniker for the time being.

Savouring a sip of his cocoa, he was pleasantly surprised by its deliciousness. For the moment, he decided to focus on enjoying his drink and the cosy atmosphere. He hoped there might be a chance later for more conversation with the friendly barista, perhaps to learn more about the city and make a new connection. She seemed amiable and approachable—a good person to know in a new place.

As Kieran enjoyed his hot chocolate and cupcake, he browsed his phone, exploring and bookmarking various spots around the city he hoped to visit in the coming months. He observed the ebb and flow of the coffee shop's life, noting other customers coming and going, while the girl busied herself with serving them and tidying up the space.

When she eventually made her way to his table again, Kieran hesitated, not wanting to impose. “Hey— If you’re swamped, it's totally fine,” he began cautiously, as she inquired if he needed anything. “But… I was wondering if you might have any recommendations for places to check out in the city?” he ventured, suddenly self-conscious about the abruptness of his question. “It's just that you seem really friendly, and there’s so much to see here that I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed,” he added quickly, a hint of anxiousness in his explanation.

Good job.

The shop’s redhead attendant exuded warmth and understanding, making Kieran feel immediately at ease. As she navigated through his questions, she highlighted the city’s offerings - from bustling bars and cosy cafes to the beach and the Hollow. Kieran, a native of Cerynia, but a village nestled in the mountains, was familiar with the Hollow’s enchanting floral landscape, having once been.

Her mention of a Christmas market and a bonfire instantly piqued Kieran’s interest. His ears perked up, a spark of curiosity lighting his eyes. “Oh! Is that event open to everyone? I don’t exactly live here,” he inquired, a hint of hope in his tone. “But a bonfire sounds wonderful… Are you planning to go as well?” he ventured further. The idea of attending the bonfire seemed less daunting at the thought of having a familiar face in the crowd.

Kieran listened intently as the girl shared that it was accessible to everyone. His expression, initially marked by curiosity, softened into a more relaxed smile when she mentioned her own plans to attend, especially since she, like him, didn’t know anyone there. It was comforting to know he wouldn’t be the only newcomer. Djodie's introduction brought a more personal touch to their conversation, prompting Kieran to mentally note to update her contact name in his phone.

His surprise was evident when Djodie mentioned she wasn't bringing anyone to the event. “Oh, you’re going alone?” he asked, his tone reflecting his mild astonishment. She seemed personable and outgoing, the type one would imagine would have plenty of company for such occasions. “It’s really nice to meet you, Djodie. I’m Kieran,” he responded, introducing himself in kind.

Kieransmiled softly as Djodie revealed she hadn't made plans to go with anyone. “You really should consider it. You come across as a genuinely nice person,” he suggested gently. He found it a bit surprising that someone as amiable as her didn’t have plans with others. Perhaps she hadn't had the chance to make arrangements, or maybe the decision to attend was a recent one. Whatever the case, Kieran hoped she wouldn’t spend New Year's Eve alone.

“And thanks for sharing that with me. I’ll definitely think about going,” he added with a smile. He contemplated the possibility of attending, although he knew there was still a chance he might spend the day with Keoni or perhaps even have his parents visit.

Recognising that she had responsibilities to attend to, Kieran gracefully segued the conversation towards a close. “I probably shouldn’t keep you from your work any longer. Thanks again for everything,” he said.