Tiramisu

Chapter 1: The Young Waiter

“Fifteen years…I can hardly believe it.” Flare gazed affectionately at his husband, his cheek resting against his hoof as he leaned on his elbow. “Where did the time go?”

Seated opposite the trim, fire-maned stallion was Cobalt, whose cool blue coat stood in stark contrast. He took another sip of his merlot and smiled reminiscently. “If I knew I would tell you. Time has gone so quickly since the day we met – I suspect you’re using some magic charm to speed it up, aren’t you?”

Flare grinned. “You know I’m an earth pony.”

“You charmed me, didn’t you?” Cobalt teased.

Flare couldn’t help but giggle softly. “What can I say? You had that older stallion charm.”

“Four years is a big difference when we’re young, but I’m sure your tone is changing now that I’m almost forty, isn’t it?”

Flare leaned across the table and gave Cobalt a kiss on the nose. “You’re as handsome as ever. In fact, I’d even call you a gray fox.”

Cobalt accepted the kiss before planting one of his own on his husband’s lips. “And you’re still as beautiful as the day I met you.” He nuzzled him warmly. “Happy anniversary, honey.”

Once Flare sat back down, their attention was redirected by their waiter, a young stallion with his mane tied back in a ponytail. “Pardon the interruption; may I interest you gentlecolts in any dessert this evening?”

“Yes!” Flare eagerly responded. He then placed the same order he always requested for himself and his husband: “Two coffees and an order of tiramisu, please.”

The waiter nodded and smiled politely. “Of course. I’ll be back in a few minutes with those for you.”

As he went back to put in the order, Flare looked after him. “He’s a cute colt, isn’t he? I can tell he takes good care of his mane.”

Now Cobalt was the one leaning on his hoof and making doe eyes at his partner. “He reminds me of you when you were that age.”

Flare tried and failed to hide a knowing smile. “What do you mean?”

“Slender, clean-cut, well-kept mane, working as a waiter…and who could forget the tiramisu?”

Flare looked away and laughed bashfully as he leaned back against his seat. “Oh, don’t remind me. That was so embarrassing.”

Cobalt leaned in with a playful grin and said, “Well, too bad, because I’m going to remind you anyway.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s good writing. I know it is. It’s just…” Lavender Quill set Cobalt’s heavy manuscript down on the desk in front of her and pressed her hooves together in thought. “How can I put this. It’s very romantic in theory, but it sounds…scripted. It hits the necessary cues but doesn’t tantalize the reader. Does that make sense?”

Cobalt held back his mounting frustration. He had revised the manuscript four times already. “You told me you want something that sells. You told me to look at what the bestsellers are doing and I did just that. This is exactly what you asked for.”

Lavender sighed through her nose and met Cobalt’s stare. She mustered what little empathy she could and asked, “Do you need a break? Because we can extend your deadline if you need…”

“No, I don’t need a break,” Cobalt cut her off, “I need direction. I need to know what you want from me.” He leaned in and pointed firmly at the manuscript. “This is bestselling romance. This is what works, and now you’re telling me it hits all the cues but still isn’t good enough. What am I supposed to do?”

Lavender sighed in exasperation and held the manuscript in front of him. “It’s not my job to tell you how to write, Cobalt! I’ve given you chance after chance, and every time you come back with the same dull clichés repeated in a different order!” She dropped it onto the desk with a harsh thud and frowned at him. “You need to write from the heart. Stop thinking about what sells and start writing as if you were in love.”

Cobalt didn’t respond.

“You do know how that feels, don’t you?”

The ensuing silence was heavy and brief. It wasn’t too long—only a few seconds—but it was long enough for Lavender Quill to understand why Cobalt was struggling. “I mean…yes, I do,” he lied, “but I don’t know how to put it in words.”

After another uncomfortable pause, Lavender opened up a drawer in her desk and set out a scheduling book. “I’ll give you three weeks. If you don’t have something good by then, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut your contract short.” She marked a date three weeks out with a red circle before returning her attention to Cobalt. “Your short stories are beautiful, but we need something more from you right now. It’s nothing personal.”

Cobalt simmered in silence. Finally, once she was finished speaking, he muttered, “Understood. Thank you.” He then stood and took his leave without another word.

Cobalt sought to clear his mind at a nearby café he had walked past a few times but never visited, Café Azure. Perhaps there, he thought, in a place where a love story could transpire, an epiphany could strike him and he could escape from his rut. So he entered, sat at a small corner booth where he could get a clear view of the establishment, and took a look at the menu. It was simple café fare without any unnecessary flourishes, but perhaps it was better that way. It was a café in the most essential sense; it was a blank canvas upon which a story could unfold.

Cobalt was a bright young author at only 24 years of age. He had made his living off of short stories inspired by the classic literature he consumed during his college years, but he wanted to write something more impactful now - something romantic; something that made him feel like a true author. He certainly looked the part with his clean, maintained appearance and form-fitting, stylish attire. He looked young and distinguished, yet his looks had never been enough to hold a stable relationship with a mare. And what good was a romance author who couldn’t be romantic?

Seeing a passing waiter, he raised his hand and spoke up. “Excuse me, I let myself in – should I have waited at the front for a table?”

The manager, a middle-aged mare with her mane in a bun, smiled politely back at him. “You’re perfectly fine. I’ll get someone to help you.” She looked back behind her and called out, “Flare, you have a customer in the corner booth!”

“Coming!” answered the voice of a colt. The pony that emerged was slim and good-looking, with a cream colored coat and brilliant red hair. His eyelashes were long and thick, and his mane was tied up in a ponytail. He was wearing the café’s uniform, a brown vest over a white shirt and tan slacks, but it looked like he had come straight off a runway. He turned to look at Cobalt, and for just a moment, his eyes widened; but he quickly donned the smile of a service worker and approached Cobalt’s booth. “I’m sorry for the wait. What can I get for you?”

Cobalt wondered for a moment why this young stallion was working as a waiter and not a model. “It’s no problem,” he said, looking at the menu again as he spoke. “Can I get a coffee with cream and an order of tiramisu, please?”

The waiter’s response surprised Cobalt. He beamed, scribbled the order down on his clipboard, and exclaimed in what sounded like pure elation, “Of course – that’s an excellent choice! I love our tiramisu here.”

When the waiter raised his eyes to meet Cobalt’s again, Cobalt was stifling a laugh and remarked, “It certainly sounds like it!”

The waiter, whose nametag read Flare, chuckled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I’ve been told I’m a bit enthusiastic.” He tucked his clipboard into his pocket and said, “I’ll have those right out for you.”

As Flare walked away, Cobalt found himself failing to tear his gaze from the stallion. It wasn’t his fault—Flare was indeed very striking—but somehow the feeling overcoming Cobalt was stronger than simple aesthetic appreciation. He felt the urge to speak to him again, though he wasn’t sure what they could talk about.

Flare returned to the table a couple minutes later with Cobalt’s order, thanked him, and told him to let him know if he needed anything else. Cobalt then set out his notepad and tried reworking some ideas for his novel, but he kept losing focus and thinking of his waiter as he sipped his coffee and ate his tiramisu. It really was delicious. It was sweet and rich and a bit bitter, just like tiramisu should be. It felt the same way Cobalt felt looking at his waiter. It was only a matter of time before Cobalt started only pretending to work, looking at Flare from across the room when he wasn’t looking instead.

Cobalt felt he could stay and keep doing this for hours, but soon, he finished his coffee and tiramisu, and no longer had an excuse to stay at his booth.

“All finished?” said Flare with a small smile as he approached the table. His eyes were like a crystal river.

“I guess I am,” Cobalt answered, returning the smile. He tried not to make himself too obvious. “I’ll have to come back; you were right about the tiramisu.”

With a chuckle, Flare took his dishes and went back to the kitchen. As soon as he disappeared, Cobalt felt a strange ache in his chest. He had never felt this way about a stallion before, so he wasn’t sure what to do from here; but it was clear that the spell Flare had cast on him was a strong one. Cobalt imagined leaving now and never seeing his waiter again, and that thought was enough to imbue him with a surge of sudden confidence. He saw Flare approaching with the check and blurted out, “I think I’ll come back tomorrow for some more, actually. Of the tiramisu, I mean.”

Flare looked down at the check and managed to cover up his grin with a soft, assuming smile. “Is that so? Well, then maybe I can serve you again. I’ll be here until three.”

“Until three?” repeated Cobalt. He could feel his heartbeat quickening as he nonchalantly said, “So if I were to come in at three and order just as you get off, then…”

Flare finished Cobalt’s thought for him. “Then maybe I could…share it with you?” His face was still pointed down at the check, but his eyes were looking up at him. “Is that what you were going to ask?”

Cobalt felt his heart jump. He had to think fast. “That depends on the answer.”

Flare’s smile was now a playful, innocent grin. “I’m not sure; I don’t usually go on dates with stallions whose names I don’t know.”

Cobalt chuckled. He was liking him more by the minute. “So then if I told you my name was Cobalt and then asked you, what would you say?”

“It’s hard to tell. Maybe we’ll know if you try asking?”

Cobalt couldn’t help but blush as he laughed. “That’s fair. In that case…would you like to have coffee with me tomorrow at three?”

Flare scribbled something on the check and set it down in front of Cobalt. It was his number, followed by a small heart at the end. “I would like that very much,” he answered, “But let’s make it 3:15. I like to have a little time to fix my hair when I go on dates.” He gave him a playful wink and said, “You can pay up front. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He went back to the kitchen, and Cobalt was left dumbstruck at the table.

His manuscript may have been rejected, but as he headed back to his apartment, Cobalt felt like he had been offered the deal of a lifetime.