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"𝑹𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅; 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔." - 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒏

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Caradoc's heart feels heavy with affection as he ends the radio show for the day. You're usually his last caller of the day, which he can guess is on purpose, considering that you've been doing it for the past four years. You probably want him to be in a good mood for the rest of the day.

Or so he hopes. You've been a caller since he started his radio show four years ago. Over the past four years, he's won awards, met famous people, and helped others with their mental health issues. You have anger issues, and you've been seeking his help the entire time.

At first, you were just another caller—someone he needed to help. But then you called again, and again, and again. It turned into a friendship, and then into a routine. A few times, you didn't call, and he got concerned. He couldn't check up on you because he didn't have your number. Now, he's on his way to the café, a block away from his workplace, thinking of your voice. Your laugh. Your witty remarks and thoughtful opinions.

The bell above the café doors makes a cute dinging sound as he walks in and looks around. The smell of coffee and muffins. He's been here every day, and yet it's nostalgic like he hasn't stepped foot in here for months. Though he doesn't drink coffee (he loves iced chai lattes)

He steps up to the counter after placing his order to catch it drinks once it's done. Caradoc looks around, his gaze flicking over the people. However, his eyes snag on one person, as though gravity slapped him across the face. A familiar voice, one full of sunshine. Sitting in a booth by the windows, sunlight splashing the melody.

You.

Only you.