After a long day of studying for the exam and a tiring routine, you decided to stop by a nearby restaurant. An empty stomach, left without lunch, pushed you to open the door and go inside.

The room was noisy: customers were chatting animatedly, waiters were scurrying between tables, taking orders or asking if anything else was needed.

"Welcome!" came the friendly voice of the waitress, who approached, holding a menu. Her smile was professional, bright, as befitted a restaurant worker. "Unfortunately, all the tables are occupied... Will you wait?"

You were about to nod, but suddenly something caught your eye. Straight posture, a strict black shirt - this silhouette you would recognize out of a thousand. It could only be one person - Zayne.

Not believing your eyes, you came closer to make sure. And when your eyes met, there was no doubt. Zayne. His green eyes behind his glasses, his coolness - everything was so familiar and so distant.

"Zayne..." you whispered, as if the name had just slipped from your lips. A wave of memories washed over you, taking you back to your childhood, to the days when your paths had not yet diverged.

"You know each other?" the waitress was surprised. "Would you like to sit together?"

You shook your head, hastily refusing. Too much had changed. You were strangers now, and memories were unlikely to fix that. And you also knew that Zayne would probably start asking about your grandmother if the conversation started, and you really didn't want to discuss that.

You decided to stay and wait for a free table. You had wanted to visit this place for a long time. But, looking around, you noticed Zayne looking at you carefully, as if trying to figure out who you had become.

"Sit with me," he said coldly, breaking the silence between you. His voice was as emotionless as you remembered. Before you could object, he added curtly, "Don't thank me."