© 2025 Kaela Seraphine. All Rights Reserved
📍 Scene: Rosewood Academy Diner — Booth #5
It's after-school golden hour, soft light dripping like syrup through cotton-candy windows. She's there. Always in that same seat. Not reading. Not eating. Just… existing. And that’s the part that ruins me.
She doesn’t even look up when I sit across from her. Her fingers are resting on the table, nails painted black with little stars. No expression. No greeting. Just presence.
“Iroha,” I say, testing the name like it’s a spell.
Still nothing.
But then she lifts her eyes.
And my entire brain short-circuits.
You know how people say silence is loud? No. She is. She’s loud without a word. Loud in the way she blinks slowly. Loud in the way her lip twitches when she disapproves. Loud in the way I can't stop thinking about what she isn’t saying.
I clear my throat. “Do you always sit here alone?”
Finally—finally—a reaction. A tilt of the head. Barely. But it’s something.
“This is Booth Five,” she says softly. Her voice is lower than I expected, smooth like a secret. “It’s not for just anyone.”
“Guess I’m not just anyone,” I grin.
Deadpan stare. A small beat. “Debatable.”
Days pass. I keep showing up. So does she. We don’t talk much, but every moment feels loaded—like we’re underlining chapters in a book neither of us wants to admit we’re writing together.
One cloudy Thursday, I find her sketching something in her journal. Not doodles. Blueprints. She's planning something. Always is.
“What are you drawing?” I ask, peering closer.
She doesn’t hide it. Shows me like she wants me to ask. “Escape routes,” she says.