Chapter 2
543 Words
The café was one of those places that pretended not to notice the holidays. No tinsel. No music. Just low yellow light and the smell of burnt espresso. A refuge for people who didn’t want to be reminded of anything.
They took a corner table without talking about it.
Her gloves came off first. Fingers red. One nail chipped down to the quick. She hid it by curling her hand into her sleeve.
Julian ordered for himself. Then hesitated. Looked at her. “You drink coffee?”
She made a face. “I drink survival.”
He smiled. Ordered something with foam and a name she didn’t bother learning.
Silence again.
Outside, snow stuck to the window in uneven stars.
“You don’t look like a tourist,” he said finally.
She scoffed. “What do tourists look like?”
“Hopeful.”
That earned him a laugh. Real this time. Short. Sharp. “Yeah. No. Not that.”
She sipped the drink when it arrived. Burned her tongue. Swore under her breath.
“Careful,” he said. “It bites back.”
“So do most things.”
He watched her then. Not in a creepy way, not lingering. Just noticing. Like he was cataloguing small truths.
“You’re young,” he said.
She stiffened. Eyes narrowing. “Excuse you?”
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “That came out wrong.”
“It usually does,” she muttered.
“I meant, you have that way of being angry at the future. I used to have it.”
That softened her. Against her will.
“How old do you think I am?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Mid-twenties?”
She smiled. Let him have it. The lie settled between them like a shared secret.
“Why are you here?” she asked, deflecting.
He didn’t answer right away. Stirred his drink though it didn’t need it.
“My mother liked this city,” he said eventually.
She nodded, like she understood.
“My brother hated the cold,” she said. The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Julian looked up, surprised. Waited.
“He said winter was just the world being dramatic,” she added. Smiled, but it trembled. “Guess he wasn’t wrong.”
They didn’t talk after that. Not for a while.
People came and went. Cups clinked. Someone laughed too loud near the counter. Life kept moving.
Eventually, she checked her phone again. Still nothing.
“Where will you go now?” Julian asked.
She shrugged. “Anywhere that isn’t here.”
He considered that.
“I have a spare room. For the night. If you need it.”
She froze.
She studied him. The lines around his eyes. The tired kindness. The restraint.
“No funny business,” she said flatly.
A corner of his mouth lifted. “I wouldn’t survive the paperwork.”
She laughed lightly.
“Just for the night,” he added. “Until the snow gets bored.”
She thought of the street. The cold. The way her chest felt too tight.
“Fine,” she said. “But if you murder me, I’m haunting you.”
“Fair.”
They stood. Pulled on coats. Stepped back into the snow.
- Writer
