I frown and look around. Where did they go…? No matter. Maybe... Maybe I was just hallucinating? But no, that makes no sense. I don’t hallucinate. Not under normal circumstances, anyway.
I turn around and enter a small cafe. It’s pretty much empty. There’s only five people, including the man behind the counter. Hmm. This looks like a pretty nice place, why isn’t it more crowded? Oh, well. I quietly approach the counter. Damn, this barita is hot. He looks surprised to see me.
“Ah, bonjour, madame,” he greets. French? “Can I ‘elp you?”
“Yes, you can,” I murmur, scanning the menu. There are...a lot of international dishes. Odd. “Could I get… A slice of Schwarzwalder Kirschtorte-” I cut myself off and blush. I… Spoke Old German. To a complete stranger. “Black Forest Cake, I mean, and a mocha.”
“Anyzing else?” Damn… And I thought British accents were sexy…