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538 Words
Lena Walter sat inside a quiet café, close to the window. She had her sketchbook open and a pencil in her hand. Her eyes stayed on the page as she drew carefully. She liked moments like this: no noise, no pressure, just her and her thoughts. Outside, people hurried past in coats and scarves. Cars moved slowly through the snow. But Lena didn’t pay attention to any of it. She was focused. Then suddenly the café door opened; fast cold air rushed in, and someone slipped near the entrance. Before Lena could react, the person bumped into her table. Her coffee fell over. It poured straight onto her sketchbook. She stared at it. The drawing she had spent hours on was now covered in dark stains. “I’m so sorry,” a voice said quickly. Lena looked up. The guy standing there brushed snow off his jacket. His hair was slightly wet from the snow, and he looked a bit out of breath. “It was an accident, I’m so sorry,” he added. Lena closed her sketchbook slowly. “You ruined it.” “I know,” he said. “I didn’t mean to.” “That doesn’t change anything.” He nodded slightly, like he accepted that. “You’re right.” That surprised her a little. “I can get you a new sketchbook,” he said. Lena shook her head. “It’s not about that.” There was a short pause. “I’m Bryan,” he said. She hesitated before replying, “Lena.” “Lena… I really am sorry.” She didn’t answer. Bryan looked at her for a moment, then stepped back. “I’ll let you be.” He walked away toward the counter. Lena opened her sketchbook again, even though she knew it was pointless; the page was ruined. She sighed and closed it again. A few minutes later, she packed her bag and stood up. As she walked toward the door, she passed Bryan. He glanced at her but didn’t say anything this time. Lena stepped outside; the cold air hit her face, and she pulled her coat closer. She started walking, trying to forget what happened, but she couldn’t. “Excuse me, wait!” She stopped and turned around. Bryan was running toward her, holding a cup. “I got you another coffee,” he said, slightly out of breath. “I thought you might want it.” Lena looked at him, then at the cup. “I don’t need it.” “Maybe not,” he said. “But I still want to give it to you.” She hesitated then slowly, she took it. “Thank you,” she said. Bryan gave a small nod. “You’re welcome.” They stood there for a moment, not sure what else to say. “I should go,” Lena said. “Yeah… okay.” She turned and walked away. This time, he didn’t follow. As Lena continued down the snowy street, she held the warm cup in her hands. She didn’t understand why she took it or why she kept thinking about him. Bryan Hardy, the guy who ruined her day but somehow didn’t feel like a complete stranger anymore.
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