It had been by sheer miracle of fate that he had run into this person, and even more of a miracle that he had managed to train the love letter delivery personnel on him afterwards. He watched the letter appear to reach the right person before dodging into the crowd, suddenly overcome with embarrassment. He had failed to realize he had never actually written a time or date on the note, but that was beside the point. He had enjoyed writing a quick letter, even if it had been pretty pointless. The day had been strange but the love letters he’d written had been a highlight. When he went home that night it’d been embarrassing to realize he had actually signed one of them but it wasn’t something he regretted. He just felt embarrassed and there wasn’t anything that would make that go away.

That embarrassment lingered when he sat down at the café with a breakfast sandwich and cup of coffee. It surfaced in in between thoughts as he scribbled down quick sketches of random object in the café. It was hard to forget when he had specified this location. Even if it had been some time since, the memory still tugged a small smile at his lips. How could he have done that? How did he work the nerve so quickly? It took him ages to even knock on the door of someone he liked much less, write three totally different letters of affection. He set his pencil down and leaned back in his chair before covering his face with his hands and letting out a quiet groan. Sinclair gave him a glance before returning to his own breakfast. He’d been quietly enjoying the meal, happy to ignore the turbulent, childish thoughts of his witch. It annoyed him Heath hadn’t learned to control his emotions yet. “Please stop, you’re making a scene.” Sinclair hissed, though he really wasn’t. The familiar was just fed up with how easily Heath was swayed by a handsome face.

The blonde peaked through his fingers at his partner before uttering a low reply, “Stuff your face. Breakfast is the most important meal, right?” Sinclair bristled momentarily before taking a large bite and chewing it loudly. He swallowed his fill angrily before asking pointedly, “When are you planning on getting rid of that godawful color anyway? It’s been long enough, let it fade.” He added, growling at his witch’s pastel locks. Heath removed his hands from his face and ran them through his hair. “I…don’t know. I like it.” He admitted. “It draws the eye. I thought we were trying to do the opposite.” Sinclair returned as his witch frowned before going back to his sketching. “I’ll get rid of it after a bit longer.” Heath promised, his words came through easily as he never specific when he would go back to a more natural color. Sinclair huffed once more but said nothing, and left Heath to his practice. Heath let his attention wander now focusing on his work. He eyed a couple of patrons before beginning to make wide stokes on his notepad. He stared intently before freezing as he made eye contact. The tip of his pencil snapped as he pressed it into paper too hard. “Ah- shit…”