To no one's surprise, Magnus ordered a falafel for breakfast at Café 19.
The Saturday breakfast rush had just ended, so the rich smells of bacon and hash browns permeated the café seating area. Einherjar scraped in their seats and headed for the door, chattering loudly and without abandon, and the hotel staff slunk in after them, clearing away the crumbs and wiping the drink stains from the table surfaces.
Alex just smirked as Magnus rattled off the fillings. He'd said to her, once, that no falafel could ever top the ones from Fadlan's Falafel, but that was hard to believe with the sparkle in Magnus' eyes as he added topping after topping to bulk out the pita.
Behind her, Sam frowned. "For breakfast…"
"I'm starting to think Magnus is a falafel vampire. Lives on falafel on nothing else," Alex replied. "The amount he's ordering, the kitchen staff are going to have to work double time."
Magnus paused his outrageous order to stick his tongue out at them both. His eyes fixed on Alex for a moment, and her heart jittered like a friendly electrical current. She clamped hard down enough on the sensation to stick out her tongue back, but she knew it had happened – that it would happen again.
It always did. Around Magnus.
Once he'd ordered and got his tray of food – like, six falafels? It was weird – Magnus pointed at a table near the back. "I'll be over there."
Sam ordered scrambled eggs, whereas Alex went for something quick and hot – a spicy breakfast sub. The scent of the meat whispered into Alex's nose, and she sank down into her chair half-drooling.
They needed this for their long day training.
Opposite her, Magnus dug into the pita bread falafel, and the numerous sauces and lettuce leaves sheathed the corners of his mouth in mess. After swallowing, he said, "We're going to need food provisions to take with us on Dad's ship."
It surprised her how calm he sounded. Setting sail in search for the Ship of the Dead was not going to be a walk in the park, yet Magnus talked about it like it was a trip to the seaside. His shoulders had eased and he leant back into his chair. Relaxed. Chilled.
Sam picked at a fry before she popped it into her mouth, and it brought Alex back to the present. "I think T.J. is helping us gather some supplies. They're a lot of forms to fill out though, with the hotel." She winced suddenly. "Hmm. These eggs need ketchup."
Alex peeled her gaze from Magnus' face to Sam's tray. The scrambled eggs were dry and unseasoned, she could see just by looking. Something that her palette would have gobbled up back when she was homeless, but now, it probably tasted like dust.
"Yep. Ketchup required. And salt. And proper cooking times."
"They're not that bad," Sam said.
Alex just gave her a look.
"Okay, yeah, they're bad," Sam admitted. "But I don't have time to get food elsewhere so this will have to do. Back in a minute."
Sam left the eggs unattended, which was probably a bad idea, because Alex liked to steal her sister's food no matter how poor the quality. She used her fork to snatch a corner of the eggs – as suspected, they were flatter and drier than a desert – and cleansed her mouth with her own breakfast sub, which, she was proud to say, did not explode all over her face.
Magnus canted his head ever so slightly, like a puppy. "Their falafels aren't bad," he said.
Alex's scalp prickled pleasantly at the look. "You have half of it on your face, so I doubt you'd know."
The corner of his mouth tugged upwards. Still, he placed the falafel back on the tray, and slowly stroked a napkin across his face. The excess came off, leaving his stupidly dimpled smile stainless.
"All gone?"
Alex smirked. "Cleaner than a baby's bottom."
Magnus choked, then grinned and burst into a laugh. A glob of pita bread was stuck between his front teeth, but still, snickers rumbled throughout his chest, his head and arms, and strands of his messy blond hair shimmied in time with him. The light from the windows seem to cross his cheeks, weaving into him like rays of sunshine.
Something blundered in Alex's chest; her heart, whipping into a sudden frenzy, beating to a mesmeric rhythm. Magnus' heartfelt grin, that blindingly incandescent amusement from as something as simple as a joke she told… it bundled Alex in a sudden rush, wrapping around her like a silky ribbon.
If she could take that moment… and bottle it forever… she would.
She must have been staring – Magnus blushed suddenly and looked away, and it only fed that strange new feeling in Alex's gut until it flourished into something bright and new.
Stupid, stupid feelings.
She ate her sandwich with renewed intensity and made a conscious effort not to stare, to act nonchalant, like her own food was the most interesting thing in the world.
"Thanks," Magnus said eventually, apparently still thinking about keeping his face at a socially acceptable level of messy. He paused, before adding, "… There's something stuck in my teeth, isn't there?"
A new wave of affection bled into her, but Alex smirked, showing no signs of her inner turmoil. "Yep."
He sighed in response and covered his mouth, washing his tongue over his teeth. The silence that ballooned between them seemed to match the feeling in Alex's chest, palpable and thick, but it wasn't awkward in the slightest – and Alex was just appreciative that they could be quiet around one another and be absolutely okay with it.
Sam chose that moment to return with a glass bottle of Heinz ketchup. Her eyes darted between them, then to her food.
"It looks like you ate half my food, Alex."
"You mean half of your egg pâté?" Alex said back, whip-quick.
Magnus stumbled into a laugh again – the bread in his teeth was still there – but he must have decided it wasn't worth it before he mashed falafel back into his mouth. The juices collected at the corners of his lips in a rinse and repeat cycle.
Same old Magnus.
She hoped he'd never change.
A/N: Just a short drabble about the memory of Café 19 from Alex's POV. Hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a review/ favourite/ follow if you did!
~ Green
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