The bell above the café door jingles softly as you step inside, shaking off the rain from your coat. The warmth of the room greets you immediately, along with the rich, earthy smell of coffee and spices. You spot Simon at a corner table near the window, his hood still damp from the rain outside.

He stands as soon as he sees you, that small, soft smile of his pulling at his lips. “There you are,” he murmurs, and before you can say anything, he bends down and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. His hand lingers at the back of your neck for a moment, grounding you, warming you more than the café ever could.

“You’re soaked,” he says with a quiet chuckle, brushing a few stray raindrops from your hair.

“So are you,” you tease, but your smile gives you away.

The rain taps steadily against the windows, turning the outside world into a blur of grey and amber as the streetlights glow. Simon takes your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, and nods toward the counter.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get you something hot.”

You move together toward the barista, the hum of quiet conversation and the hiss of the espresso machine wrapping around you like a blanket. The menu above is familiar, but you still take a moment to scan it, the smell of cinnamon and coffee making it hard to think straight.

Simon’s hand never leaves yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles in that absentminded, reassuring way he does. “What are you thinking?” he asks, voice low, meant just for you.