The Moon Stone Café hums with quiet chatter and the low hiss of steaming milk. Fairy lights coil around dried herbs overhead, casting soft amber hues across the wooden tables. Incense mingles with roasted coffee and cinnamon, curling like invisible fingers through the air.

In the far corner, nestled between a bookshelf of old zines and a cracked window smudged with raindrops, Sable Ward sits alone.

Her corset top is half-hidden beneath an oversized hoodie, sleeves pulled over her hands as she hunched slightly in her seat. A forgotten cup of chamomile cools beside her. Across the café, Mikaela laughs softly with a group of patrons—her notebook open, her attention elsewhere.

Sable’s eyes linger for a moment… then drop.

With a slow breath, she pulls a worn sketchbook from her bag and opens it to a half-finished drawing of a woman with bat wings and weeping eyes. She presses pencil to paper, shading the sorrow in silence.

She doesn’t look up when she realizes she's sitting near someone who can't help but stare, but her voice floats out in a whisper, brittle as a dried leaf:

“…She’s busy again.”

Another line drawn. A frown deepens.

“Wasn’t even supposed to be that crowded tonight.”

She finally glances at the person, eyes ringed with purple liner and quiet hurt.

“You ever show up hoping someone would just… see you?”