The Weight Of Two Worlds.
602 Words
CHAPTER 6 — THE WEIGHT OF TWO WORLDS
The café gradually filled with quiet morning warmth, but Hannah barely noticed anything except the sound of Eric placing a cup on the counter, the soft scrape of porcelain against wood, the way the winter light fell across his face.
It wasn’t attraction alone.
It was curiosity.
Recognition.
A strange familiarity she couldn’t explain.
Outside the café windows, snowflakes drifted lazily, each one catching the soft golden glow of Paris as if the city itself wanted to slow time down for this moment.
Hannah wrapped her hands around the warm cup. “Do you work here every day?”
Eric nodded. “Most days. Holiday season gets busy.”
“I can imagine.” She hesitated. “You look tired.”
He paused, then gave a small shrug. “I’m used to it.”
But there was something behind his eyes she couldn’t ignore. Not exhaustion—something heavier. Something carried silently.
Hannah leaned slightly forward. “Do you like working here?”
Eric hesitated.
He was supposed to say yes.
That he loved it.
That it was his dream.
But instead—
“It’s… complicated,” he admitted quietly.
Hannah’s breath curled in the cold air of the café. She found herself leaning closer without meaning to. “Complicated how?”
Eric opened his mouth, then closed it. He couldn’t tell her the truth—not even a piece of it.
Not that he had no family.
Not that he’d been trained since childhood to survive.
Not that the Lancaster assignment was the most dangerous thing he had ever accepted.
So he simply said—
“I’m not sure I belong anywhere, to be honest.”
Hannah felt something tighten inside her chest.
Not pity.
Not sympathy.
Just… connection.
Because she, too, felt trapped in a world she didn’t belong to. Except her world was made of marble floors, private jets, designer coats, and expectations heavy enough to suffocate her.
Her voice softened. “I don’t feel like I belong either.”
Eric’s head lifted slightly, eyes searching hers.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“My family…” She paused, unsure how much she should say. “They’re wonderful, but… also overwhelming. Everything is decided for me. Where I study. Who I meet. What I should want. Even how I should behave.”
Eric studied her, his expression unreadable.
She lowered her gaze. “I sometimes feel like I’m living inside a glass box. Everyone sees me, but no one actually knows me.”
Eric’s hand tightened on the cloth he was holding. He understood that feeling far too well.
Without thinking, he whispered, “I know what that feels like.”
Hannah looked up sharply. “You do?”
He nodded once. Slowly.
Their eyes held.
Softer now.
More vulnerable.
As if both of them were peeling back a layer of themselves they never showed anyone.
For a moment, Hannah forgot the café, the hotel, her parents, Paris—everything except the boy standing in front of her, whose eyes looked like they hid entire worlds.
But the moment shattered when someone called out loudly:
“Eric! The manager wants you!”
Eric straightened instantly. His mask returned—the polite, distant hotel staff expression.
“Duty calls,” he said with a faint smile.
Hannah nodded, trying not to look disappointed. “See you around?”
Eric hesitated.
Then, quietly—
“Yes.”
He turned and walked away.
But Hannah didn’t miss the way he glanced back at her once before disappearing into the kitchen corridor.
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- Writer
