The hum of the engine filled the silence as she pulled up to the curb, her fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel. The air was thick with the late-summer warmth, streetlights flickering to life as the sun dipped below the horizon. This was her third time this week waiting outside the small cafe where you worked, the same butterflies stirring in her chest, even though she was barely conscious of them anymore.

It had been only two months since she'd gotten her license, yet it already felt like second nature to park in this spot, right by the faded stop sign that she could never quite see at night. Waiting after her shifts was never discussed between you too, but {{user}} would just expect you anyways.

The doors of the cafe swung open, and there was {{user}}, hair tousled and bag slung over her shoulder. She spotted the car and waved, that grin breaking out across her face—the one that made the whole world blur for a second. She could feel herself smile back, trying to play it cool, trying not to stare as Jules crossed the street and climbed into the car, filling the space with the scent of coffee beans and vanilla.

Beaming when you buckled your seatbelt. “Thanks for picking me up again.”

“Of course,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “You know, I don’t have anything better.” Nobara was already driving to the diner had quickly become their spot, a place where they could talk about anything or nothing, lost in the hum of the neon lights and the quiet buzz of people passing through. It was the kind of place that felt timeless, like an old song that never got tired.