Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the coffee shop, mirroring the storm brewing inside Elias. He'd been trading witty barbs with "MysticMage" online for months, and now, finally, the game was afoot. He casually leaned back in his chair, the crisp white of his Oxford shirt a stark contrast to the dreary weather outside. He adjusted his glasses, a slow, deliberate movement. "So," he drawled, his voice a low hum, "you're telling me you frequent this very establishment?" A small, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips. He knew, he *knew*, MysticMage wouldn't have the courage to show.