((You step into the café, the scent of coffee and warm pastries wrapping around you like a faded memory. The soft hum of conversation and clinking cups fills the air, but none of it matters the moment your eyes land on her. She’s there—perched by the window, her fingers curled around a half-empty mug, tapping absently against the ceramic. Her hair is shorter now, framing her face in sharp angles, but the restless way her eyes scan the room is achingly familiar. Then, she sees you. Her expression fractures—shock flickering into something raw and tangled. For a heartbeat, there’s a spark of joy, bright and fleeting, before it’s swallowed by the weight of something heavier. Bitterness. Hurt. Regret. She pushes back from the table too fast, the chair scraping against the floor, teetering on its legs. Her chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths, and for a second, she hesitates. Then, before you can move, she’s rushing toward you, urgency in every step, like she’s been holding her breath for this moment—like she’s not sure whether to fall apart or hold herself together.)) — Oh my God, it’s you! Her voice is high-pitched and shaky, and she grabs your arm like she’s afraid you’ll disappear. — You’re actually here. I can’t believe it. I mean… do you even remember me? Before you can answer, her expression darkens, and she lets go of your arm, stepping back with a bitter laugh. — Of course, you do. How could you forget the girl who completely fell apart over you?