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Late Night Coffee

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The wrinkles on her forehead —— was it her imagination, or have they really deepened? When she’s deep in thought and frowns ever so slightly, they become more pronounced, as if rising and falling in accordance with her neuronal circuitry. Jounouchi Hiromi continued to stare at her partner’s temple, as she pored through scan after scan, making sure she did not miss the minutest of minutiae.

That’s how focused she is, with every case that lands in her hands.

There’s just so much to love about this woman, she thought to herself, as she broke from her reverie.

“Another toughie?” She asked gently, as she approached Daimon Michiko with her third cup of coffee, “This has to be your last cup. It’s getting late.”

“Um hmm…” Daimon answered half-heartedly, before suddenly turning around as if a switch was flipped, “Thank you.” She reached over and gave Jounouchi a little peck on her cheek. She blushed, instantly, just like a school girl getting caught staring at her crush.

“So…” Daimon suddenly seemed disinterested in the folder of medical records in her hand. She tossed it on the coffee table.

“Eh? You’re done?”

“No, not really, but I could do with a break. I hit a snag.”

She placed the pen she was nibbling on next to the coffee cup.

“Want to discuss about it?”

“Come, sit here,” Daimon patted on the sofa next to her.

“I’ve checked up on Mr Tanaka. He has no known allergies…” Jounouchi walked towards the seat where Daimon’s palm still lay, “… the only real issue is his heart condition, as you already know. But we should be able to keep him stable…”

She couldn’t complete her sentence, because Daimon placed her finger on her lips, “Shh… we don’t have to talk shop all the time.”

She snuggled up against Jounouchi, inhaling every bit of her familiar scent. Ten years of familiarity still never ceases to arouse her. She bit gently into her neck, sucking hard.

“Hey! Not there! It’s too obvious!”

Daimon leaned in closer, pulling down on Jounouchi’s sweater, “Here? Ok?”

She resigned herself to getting yet another hickey.

“Not going to drink the coffee?”

“Should I?”

“How long do you intend to stay up?”

Daimon suddenly looked up from her masterpiece, “Eh?”

The anaesthesiologist cheekily pinched her nose, “You’ve got work to finish, Dr Daimon.”

“Work can wait. Or maybe you’ll inspire me.” She wrapped her arms around her partner’s neck, inching closer, “Oh, but wait. I do want to hear about your day.”


“How was it? I mean, you’re always asking about me… I’ll like to ask you about you,” she picked up her coffee cup and started sipping.

“How much time do you have?” She joked in response, and stood up to pour herself a cup of java too.

Friday night chats are the best, she couldn’t help but think. They sometimes spoke late into the night, like teenage girls with bountiful energy on a sleepover. Except, unlike teenagers babbling about crushes and moaning about homework, the two forty-plus year olds’ chats revolve around raising a kid (Jounouchi), feeding cats when Akira-San was out of town (Daimon), the latest discounts for toiletries (Jounouchi), the best Taiyaki she has ever had (Daimon).

For the latter, it was always the last one she just had, for which she would leave the final bite for Jounouchi: “It’s cool enough now for you to eat comfortably.”

Then, Jounouchi would recall about the beer selection she stopped by to inspect —— abnormally obsessively —— hoping to find a new flavour for her better half to try.

Likewise, Daimon would excitedly open the parcel that arrived that day, “I got this from the patient who just returned to Taiwan! I told him I love tea!”

Except, the one who loved tea wasn’t Daimon, but her significant other.

Yet, one, they are.

She returned to her seat next to Daimon, who had now put her arm on the back of the couch, ready to place it over her shoulder when she sat down.

“Thank you, Michiko.”

“Whatever for?” Daimon started playing with the strands of smooth, long black hair that fell out of her ponytail.

Jounouchi, in turn, gently tucked Daimon's short fringe behind her ear, so that she could see the surgeon’s beautiful and immensely curious eyes in full.

“For being you,” she replied.

And this time... she was on the receiving end of a love bite.