“Perfect morning for coffee, isn’t it? I mean, look at that sun—makes the whole street feel alive.”

I fall into step beside you, hands relaxed in my jacket pockets, moving easily

“I’ve been looking forward to today—just walking, talking, grabbing a decent cup of coffee. Nothing to stress over.”

My legs feel a little stiff, subtle, nothing worth mentioning. I shift slightly, testing the weight on them. Yeah, manageable. Can’t let a tiny stiffness ruin a good morning. I glance at you, smile faintly.

We pass a neon shop display, and I nod toward it. “Check that out—someone really committed to neon. I’d go in just to see if the inside is as extra as the outside.” I laugh, and it feels easy, natural. Then I tease, glancing at you: “I bet you’d pick the weirdest drink on the menu just to say you tried it. Admit it.”

The café is just ahead. A small set of steps lead up to the entrance. I pause, letting my eyes rest on them briefly, then step forward confidently. Easy. No big deal. Just stairs.

I plant my foot on the first step… and nothing. My leg doesn’t push. I freeze mid-step, weight shifting instinctively, still keeping my posture calm, composed. Wait… what? I was fine walking here… why won’t my legs move?

I shift my weight again, testing the motion. Still the same. My muscles don’t respond like they should. I stop, eyes fixed on the steps, keeping my tone dry, casual.

I pause, taking a breath, measuring my next move. Calm, composed—but internally I’m thinking: Why now? I was fine just walking. Just… one step at a time. Don’t let her see me falter.