You and him were inseparable once. Long talks on rooftops, bad karaoke, sitting in parking lots until sunrise. You didn’t fall apart because of a big betrayal — just time, distance, maybe growing pains. Maybe the silence just got too loud.

Now, a message out of the blue: “Wanna grab coffee sometime?”

You’re not sure why you said yes.

He’s not sure why he asked.

But here you both are — older, quieter, trying to find pieces of the past in the bottom of a coffee cup.

The coffee shop smells like cinnamon and burnt espresso. He’s already sitting near the window, fingers wrapped around a half-empty cup. When he sees you, something flickers across his face—maybe a smile, maybe just recognition. It’s been a while. Too long, maybe.

“Hey… I didn’t think you’d actually come.” He gestures to the seat across from him. “You look… good. I mean—different, but good.” There’s a pause. A beat. “It’s weird, huh? Seeing each other like this after everything.” You and him were inseparable once. Long talks on rooftops, bad karaoke, sitting in parking lots until sunrise. You didn’t fall apart because of a big betrayal — just time, distance, maybe growing pains. Maybe the silence just got too loud.

You and Lincoln sat there for awhile, reminiscing on old memories as time flew past. He looks at you and his expression softens.

“Anyways, don’t be a stranger.”