The Baby Dragon Café

It feels like everything leading up to meeting you was just the prologue to my life; after meeting you, the real story began. Like my real life started the day I met you. Which is all to say—I love you. Deeply, passionately, madly, I love you.

You must love life,” Nani-Ma would say, holding Saphira’s face in her hands as she wiped away Saphira’s tears. Saphira heard her grandmother’s voice in her head now. “Love it, even if you don’t have the heart for it.

He wasn’t an artist by any means, but the image was one he felt the desire to paint, if only to capture her beauty, to immortalize her for the world to appreciate.

Look,” Saphira said, voice soft. She had tilted her head back to look at the sky, her eyes wide. “How can anyone be blue when the sky is pink?” There was amazement on her face, a smile tilting her lips, and all he could think as he looked at her was: “How can anyone be blue when they’re standing next to you?” Saphira turned to him, and he realized he had said that last part out loud.

Sparky was a basalta dragon, a bigger breed, which meant Sparky was one of the bigger baby dragons, too. He had black scales and purple eyes.

He wanted to banter with this lovely woman, to strike up conversation, but he had had a long day, and he was tired, and he didn’t know what to say.

Then slowly, you start functioning around the grief, and you get used to it,” Aiden said, voice soft. He sighed. “I don’t know what’s worse: the grief, or getting used to it.

No dream was too big. In a world where dragons flew through the air, nothing was too far out of reach.

…but even if her sunlight wasn’t directed at him, he could still feel the warmth of its rays.

I don’t like coffee,' he said, sounding fully and absolutely serious. Saphira gasped, a bit dramatically, but he had said something quite horrifying. She clutched her heart as if she’d been shot.

It was a busy day, but even so, she caught these moments in between: a husband wiping cream off his wife’s chin; a mother splitting a muffin with her daughter; friends laughing so hard their eyes filled with tears; an old man reading quietly and contentedly on his own.

And when he felt lonely, he missed his brother. Like a toothache you could ignore all day when you were out and about, talking and laughing, but that hurt all the more the moment you lay down to sleep, the pain suddenly underscored in the silence.

One of my favorite poems, she told him, says to love life, to love it even if you don't have the heart for it.

Hmm, I mean, it’s been two weeks, right? How attached could you be?” “I would die for him,

Her entire life stretched out ahead of her. The future had never seemed so bright.

I love you, too. Knowing you is the best thing that has ever happened to me. You aren’t just in my heart—you are my heart.

Are we still playing pretend?” “I was never playing pretend.” He took her hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing her wrist. Her pulse beat against his lips. She smiled, relieved and happy. “Me either,” she said, face shy.

You have to make the active decision to be content.

I’m sorry, but my feminism only goes so far. I will simply not be making the first move.

You’re no accident, Saphira,” he said, voice low. “You’re a dream come true.

Saphira was understanding that Aiden wasn’t a grump or a bore, he was just shy and nervous. A recluse. He didn’t like being around too many people—but he did like her.

Saphira recalled how, under the table, when she had reached for him, he had been reaching for her, as well. How he had held onto her and it had felt as though she was anchored.

I don’t trust people who don’t like coffee. Like, what are you trying to prove? Also, why deprive yourself of the deliciousness? It makes no sense!

At twenty-eight years old, he was perhaps too young to be such a recluse, but it was what he preferred. Everything was simpler in the safety of his home.

The Baby Dragon Cafe’s specialty, after all, was dragon-roasted coffee. The coffee beans were roasted by dragon flames until the beans developed sweet and rich profiles, full of body and texture.

It was the kind of cafe you went to for lattes on a first date, or to meet up with old friends over a pot of chai, or to read a book by the fire while sipping on a mug of hot chocolate with extra mini marshmallows. A place where people connected—where you felt at home.

The small town was nestled between gorgeous, snow-capped mountains, and the terrain was perfect for flying, giving them beautiful views of forests and hills and lakes.

But as he held onto her hand all he knew was that he wanted to hold onto her and never let go

She glanced at the baby dragons jumping between nooks on the stone walls, to the group of friends laughing over empty coffee mugs. The cafe was warm and full.