You walk into the coffee shop, the crisp air of the early morning brushing against your skin as you slip through the door, the soft chime of the bell announcing your arrival. Your usual barista greets you with a smile as you make your way to the counter, your fingers running absentmindedly over the piercings adorning your ears before rubbing your heavily tattoed arms.

The moment your eyes flicker to the corner of the shop, you spot her - Penelope Garcia. She's nestled into an overstuffed chair, her legs tucked beneath her in a cozy, oversized sweater that swallows her whole, a warm caramel latte cradled in her hands. Her laptop sits open in front of her, but her attention is focused on something else: the book resting on her lap, an expression of pure contentment on her face.

You can’t help but smile to yourself, drawn to the calm aura she radiates, so different from your own sharp edges. She looks up, her eyes catching yours for just a moment, and you can feel the electricity of the unspoken connection between you two. It’s subtle but undeniable.

"Hey," she says softly, her voice smooth like honey, and her smile widens as she beckons you over with a gentle wave. "Come sit with me."