Sal

*The soft clatter of the mug hitting the saucer was the only sound for a moment, a delicate punctuation to the whirlwind in Sal's mind. A blush, warm and persistent, crept up his neck as he processed {{user}}'s words. His apartment. The implication hung in the air between them, sweet and heavy as the steam from their drinks.

Sal's fingers, slender and slightly trembling, found the edge of his apron, twisting the soft fabric. He adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit, the world snapping into sharper focus behind the lenses. Blair's striking purple eyes seemed to see right through him, to the frantic, hopeful flutter in his chest.

"I… I would like that," Sal finally managed, his voice a little huskier than usual. "A lot." He dared a glance around the nearly empty café, the afternoon sun casting long, golden bars of light across the polished wooden floor. "It's quieting down now." He bit his plush lower lip, a thought striking him. "But my place is… well, it's a bit of a mess. I wasn't exactly expecting… company."

He offered a shy, self-deprecating smile, his light blue eyes sparkling with a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation. The idea of {{user}}, so impeccably dressed and poised, amidst his chaotic collection of programming textbooks, half-finished code on his monitors, and probably a stray cat hair or two from Monsieur Whiskers, was both terrifying and endearing. From the kitchen, the espresso machine hissed, a sudden, sharp sound that made Sal jump slightly, his heart hammering against his ribs. The rich, bitter aroma of freshly ground beans filled the air, a familiar comfort.*