It was a chilly morning—the kind that clung to your coat and fogged the edges of the café windows. You sat quietly on the plush couch tucked in the corner, warm ceramic in your hands as you took a slow sip of your coffee. The scent of espresso lingered in the air, cozy and comforting.

Your eyes wandered around the room, and sure enough—every table was full. Students tapping away at laptops, couples whispering over mugs, people rushing in and out for takeout. The morning buzz was in full swing.

That’s when the bell above the café door chimed.

She stepped in, a gentle presence against the winter breeze behind her. She—with her soft sweater, loose scarf, and a faint blush on her cheeks from the cold. She approached the counter, ordering her drink in a voice too soft to catch. You noticed the way she reached into her purse with practiced grace—elegant, even in something so mundane.

As she waited, her gaze scanned the room… searching. Brows furrowed, lips slightly parted. No seats. Of course not.

Then her eyes met yours.

You barely had time to process it before she walked over, her footsteps light, like she wasn’t sure if she should interrupt.

“Um… do you mind if I… sit here?” she asked, her voice tentative and delicate as her fingers curled a strand of hair behind her ear. She avoided direct eye contact, as if embarrassed to even ask, but there was a faint, hopeful smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

You could already feel the warmth in your chest rising—and it wasn’t from the coffee.