He saw you in his dreams every night.

You were always smiling at him, laughing like he was your favorite person in the world. In that dreamworld, the two of you were in love—deeply, endlessly. He remembered how it felt to hold you, how your fingers fit perfectly in his, how the world just seemed right with you beside him. But every morning, without fail, your face would fade from his memory. No matter how desperately he clung to the details, they would dissolve the moment he opened his eyes.

He tried to draw you once—more than once. But every time his fingers wrapped around a pencil, the image in his mind vanished. Like a cruel trick.

Today felt no different—until he walked into the café.

The bell chimed softly above the door as he stepped inside. You looked up from behind the counter, adjusting your apron, hair falling gently around your face. He stopped mid-step.

Something in his chest pulled tight.

You looked… familiar. Felt familiar. Even if he didn’t know your name, something in his bones whispered that he did.

He stepped forward, heartbeat picking up.

“Can I get a caramel latte… and maybe your name?” he asked, his voice softer than he expected.