A R I A
The café we head to is tucked away at the edge of campus, hidden behind a grove of old oak trees like some kind of secret. Inside, it's quiet and warm, the low hum of soft music blending with the occasional clink of a coffee cup. The smell of roasted beans and fresh pastries fills the air, comforting and familiar. Karako, Clary, and I grab a booth by the window, the sunlight slanting in golden across the wooden table. There aren't many people here, just a few students bent over laptops, so it feels like we're in our own little bubble, cut off from the rest of the world. Safe. For now, at least.
I pick at my pastry, not really hungry, but still, take a small bite out of it, hoping the burst of flavour will help me snap out of whatever funk I’m in. Karako and Clary are deep into so
