Trafalgar leaned against one of the cold iron pillars of the station, the faint morning mist curling around his boots. The place was quiet, save for the occasional hiss of steam escaping from a nearby train. He glanced up at the clock — still early.
A few minutes later, Bartholomew appeared, walking with a slightly hurried pace. His glasses were faintly fogged from the cold air, and his shoulders were hunched, as if trying to take up as little space as possible.
"Uh… good morning," Barth said softly.
Trafalgar straightened up. "You're early."
"Uh… you too," Barth replied, eyes flicking away almost immediately.
As they made their way to the platform, Trafalgar asked, "So… what did you tell your sister?"
Barth reached up to adjust his glasses, visibly nervous. "I… I told her that… I was going out with you… like… like friends."
Trafalgar raised an eyebrow. "And she believed it?"
