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It shouldn’t come as a surprise that someone who loved space as much as Mikkel did and whose job it was to literally observe celestial movements would keep to some rather unsociable hours. The result of late night sessions with his telescope was when he WAS expected to arrive at work during daylight hours, the man relied on an awful quantity of coffee to keep his eyes open.
He was aware that there were plentiful resources to get his caffeinated fix around the ministry but they were often some of the most visited locations with a queue for the pot and workers primed for conversation. It wasn’t that he disliked other people but spending over a decade in one’s own company with polar bears for neighbours on a remote Arctic certainly had its way with his comfortability among crowds and with his skills as a conversationalist. He’d found the underground coffee club by accident one day whilst searching for a quiet spot to consume his beverage and it had remained his spot ever since.
He’d helped himself to a black coffee in his galaxy themed mug from the thankfully already filled pot on the cauldron and was nestled into a dark corner on a pleather couch concentrating on keeping his mind awake when a voice cut through the silence. It took him a few seconds to establish whether the words were directed at him resulting in a perplexed expression as he glanced over at her. “Apologies but.. are you talking to me?” he asked hesitantly.
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