For a few months [or years irl, sorry to my die-hard fans], Anastasia and Christian peacefully coexisted in their castle in the Scottish Highlands in a fluctuating state of tranquillity and violent passion. In the tranquil hours, Anastasia had taken up pottery, while Christian had taken to crafting a variety of items of clothing for Anastasia's cat. In the violent and passionate hours, Anastasia put her new hand skills to good use and Christian released the crippling, pent up frustration that knitting left him with. The results were explosive.

But one fateful day, Christian had made a decision that made it all fall apart. A lifestyle choice that he believed would elevate him from man to more-than-a-man. He had decided to become a vegan. Anastasia knew she could never live without animal products, just as she knew she could never live with a vegan. After all, who can really live with a vegan.

So regrettably they parted. Anastasia remained in the castle and consoled herself by bathing in cheese, knowing that Christian may well never experience cheese again. Christian moved into a tent out the back of an artisan coffee bar in a nearby town, enjoying the familiar nature of life on the street.

Anastasia had spent the morning cleaning her kiln. She had just completed a series of bespoke glazed aubergines. She had crafted a range of colours, shapes and sizes, so no matter the intended use there was a perfect fit for every occasion.

She sighed and brushed the dust from her thighs as she turned toward the door. Outside, in the inevitable rain, sat Alan, his pointy ears cocooned in a pair of pink woollen ear-socks. Anastasia felt a pang of sorrow and desire as she began to think about the crafty, dextrous hands that had made those ear-socks. She found herself gazing into a puddle as though it were her soul, longing for something to fill her up once more as the rain did for the puddle.

Alan's tail flicked across the glassy surface, disturbing Anastasia's thoughts. Her mind cleared suddenly and she realised that what she really needed was a coffee. With a newfound purpose, she had soon made her way to the kitchen where she discovered, to her dismay, that she had run out of coffee. Oh no, she thought, these last few months I've been totally absorbed in making ceramic aubergines and have not fully recognised that they were not sufficient to satisfy my body's nutritional needs.

So Anastasia embarked on a coffee odyssey. Little did she know, this journey to seek sustenance would reward her with more than just coffee.

It had been a busy morning for Christian. He had artfully discharged milk into so many hot beverages that he feared his tank was almost empty. He reached sluggishly into the fridge for a fresh carton, pulled off the lid and poured the glossy, creamy liquid into his jug. Immediately he shrieked in horror. REAL MILK, his inner voice wailed, my reckless hands have been tainted by the blood of innocent beings. Sweat beaded on his forehead like the tears of the cow whose milk he had so unwillingly exploited.

Christian did not know what to do, where to look, something had cracked within him. His brain, atrophied by his vegan diet, was unable to cope under the pressure. He tried to put the lid back on the carton but missed. Delicious, gleaming milk sloshed to the floor, spattering his socks and Birkenstocks with the metaphorical life-force of cow. He tried a second time and missed again, this time feeling a splatter on his face. Desperate to end his torment, Christian flung the carton and lid back into the fridge and whimpered as the door closed with a thud.

Christian slumped against the fridge panting, paralysed with guilt and self-loathing. He hated that he was forced to work alongside flesh-eating barbarians to cater for patrons who craved the juices of cruelty.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, thinking of soy and almond and coconut and quinoa. Gradually he was engulfed once more by vegan tranquillity.

The coffee shop bustled around him. Milk gurgled, coffee percolated, cake crumbled. The harmonious coffee shop ecosystem cycled on. Orders jumbled, small change fumbled, baked goods bundled. Christian returned to his post, spouting milk into coffees once more.

Anastasia contemplated her coffee order as she journeyed into town.

I could have normal milk, she considered, but maybe it's time for me to have my coffee bean fertilised by a different kind of milk. I could try almond milk, I could try coconut milk, I could try soy milk, maybe hemp milk or oat milk, I even heard they do quinoa milk now. I've heard coconut milk produces quite an impressive froth, she paused, but it does seem like most people dip their first dairy free toes into soy milk. After all, I do like soy sauce. How different could it be?

It had been a long while since she had last left the castle and she was relieved to see the outside world was still there. Fields, fed by the perpetual rain, indeed continued beyond the fence. As did the road as she continued to follow it towards the little clutch of buildings nestled beneath the mountains. And so, she hoped, did the coffee shop.

Christian heard the rain outside crescendo and decrescendo as someone opened and closed the door. He heard the person approach the counter. Even over the noise of the coffee shop he could hear the person breathing.

Then he heard the voice.

'One soy latte, please.'

At the sound of the vegan order Christian's ears pricked up, another organ soon followed suit. Even though he found all vegan orders arousing, there was something different about this one. It was so bland yet taunted him with a whiff of fervour he had not felt in some time. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, anxiously willing him to turn and ease the tension that was beginning to build up in his body.

Christian could hear his co-worker putting the order into the till. 'What's the name with that one?'

'Anastasia.' Said the voice.

Christian's body throbbed. He felt his heartbeat in his eyes as it drove libidinous blood around his quivering body. Soy, he thought. Latte, he continued. Anastasia, he almost moaned it aloud. He could not believe the day had come. Anastasia, life-long cheese-devotee, had ordered a vegan coffee.

Unable to contain his yearning, Christian turned to face her.

'It would be my pleasure to put the soy in your latte.'

Their eyes met. It would have been love at first sight had it been the first time they'd met and had love been the principle emotion. But it wasn't. Christian was paralysed with longing, his blood shunted from his peripheries to more vital organs, or organ. Her eyes glinted back at him, like two giant chia seeds on top of a dairy-free super-food smoothie bowl. I really want to free her dairy, he thought to himself, too wired to realise that didn't make any sense.

Christian felt soy milk splash down his legs as the jug he was holding fell from his hands but he was already moving. The counter between them was a physical embodiment of the dietary wedge that had driven them apart, only this time there was a way around it. The back door. He had wanted to take Anastasia through the back door ever since he started working in the coffee shop. Heart broken, he had waited and waited for her to come, knowing that her cheese-loving soul was no-longer his. Until now.

He could see in Anastasia's eyes how much she needed him to take her through the back door. So that is what he did.

Christian skirted the counter at a speed that would have rendered the children who teased him on school sports days for being a frail little ginger awestruck. Each step brought him closer to his goal. Each step took him closer to her. As he saw her in front of him time began to slow down and the floor between them seemed to stretch but it was no match for Christian.

Their bodies slammed together with a force that could be matched by nothing known to man. The touch of Anastasia's skin sent thrilling waves of electricity through Christian's body. His hands did not know where to start, they slid ravenously from her neck to her waist and beyond, but in his head everything just kept leading back to the same thing. The back door.

Momentarily able to control himself, Christian turned Anastasia so she was facing away from him. He pressed himself against her, propelling her forward. With a moan, she reached behind her and clutched his hips so hard her knuckles turned white. He pushed harder, moving her faster and faster until finally he took her through the back door.

They found themselves in the courtyard out the back of the coffee shop and before their eyes stood a structure that beckoned them to enter.

Christian's tent.