Charles stepped out of the taxicab, calling out an appreciative “Cheerio!” to the driver in farewell before the yellow automobile rejoined the crawling traffic of Midtown Manhattan.
Early April was a fine time to be in New York, warm enough for Charles to get away with just a cardigan, despite the wind still having a bit of a nip to it.
This morning was rather chilly, so Charles had a warming sip of Earl Grey from the takeaway cup that Erik had made him bring along, accompanied by a chocolate
in a pastry bag.
Smiling down fondly at the items in his hand, Charles couldn't help feeling ridiculously touched.
He bit into the crispy chocolate pastry as he surveyed the exterior of the Harry Winston outlet, admiring the high arches of the French-styled doorway and picture windows.
The refined elegance of its creamy travertine exterior made it stand apart from its shiny glass-and-steel neighbours across the road, but Charles wasn’t exactly surprised.
All the buildings along this stretch of Fifth Avenue were a mishmash of old and new, much like the rest of NYC itself.
And, thanks to the close proximity to Central Park, Charles could still detect the fresh, flowery fragrance of its numerous cherry blossom trees,
just in the new flush of first bloom as April trundled along. It was Charles’ favourite time to be in Manhattan.
Just yesterday, he had visited a different part of Central Park with Erik, where they had tried to get a chess game going before giving up after attracting too many curious onlookers.
They had then gone on a walk instead, hands entwined while discussing psychology,
Erik extolling the virtues of Carl Jung’s theories while Charles had listened with rapt interest and barely concealed delight as Erik absently brushed back stray locks of Charles’ hair
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