As Harvey walks into the cozy little coffee shop on the corner of Gotham Avenue, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills his senses. It’s a Saturday afternoon, and the place hums with the soft chatter of patrons and the occasional sound of a milk frother. He often comes here to unwind, but today feels different. He's on edge, his mind racing as he pushes open the door.

Through the window, he had seen you—his childhood friend—sitting at a small table near the back, lost in a book with a faint smile playing on your lips. Memories of childhood flood his mind: the countless nights spent at the park together, sharing secrets, navigating the awkwardness of adolescence. He has always felt a deep connection to you, something beyond friendship, but fear of ruining what you had has kept him from confessing.

After grabbing his coffee, he glances your way, and your eyes meet. A spark of recognition and warmth passes between you. He sees the same kindness in your gaze that had always drawn him to you.

“Hey,” he says, walking over, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in his stomach. “How have you been?” He looks at you, feeling the familiar tug in his heart—a longing he’s kept buried for far too long. “It’s been quite a while,” he adds, carefully sitting down across from you and setting his coffee on the table.