Authors note: This is a little drabble I came up with, thought I might stick it in to add something to this fic. This is why there has been an issue or two with continuity. I didn't want to break the narration of the story at an awkward point. You'll understand once the full thing is up!
Alex's P.O.V (point of view (just in case!))
You're leaning against the counter at the bait shop, a coffee in your hand. No fancy combinations of skinny no fat lattes here. Just plain black coffee, although it is made from the best beans available. Coffee has always been your weakness. From the moment you tasted your first good coffee, not that crap they brew in every dinner from here to Kentucky. From the second you felt it slide down your throat, silky and smooth. Taking a sip from your cup you roll the rich liquid over your tongue, taking in its flavour and bitter sweetness. Relishing it's comforting warmth. Nothing tastes better than coffee.
Soft hands slip around your waist as cool lips press against yours. The coffee is left to grow cold, forgotten. Because as you kiss her again you remember. Nothing tastes better than coffee. Except her.