Sunlight spilled through the slats of Aurora's blinds, painting her room in pale gold. Her eyelashes fluttered open to the gentle buzz of her phone on the bedside table. For a moment, she lay still—warm, safe, cocooned in yesterday's emotions—before remembering her promise to Sister Elira.
She reached for the phone. Two new messages waited, one from Instagram, and the other from WhatsApp:
🦋 Morning, Aurora. I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I was thinking, what a wonderful day to have a cup of coffee with a beautiful lady! I realize this is bold, but I'd love five minutes of your time—no rabbit talk, I swear.
-@leocallahan7.
Sister Elira : My dearest child, good morning! It's been too long. Yeah, I know you were busy but if you're free today, could you stop by the garden at St. Evelyne's? I'm also no stranger to the fact that I should have considered asking you yesterday, on Sunday but I have something of yours that has been waiting.
Aurora's heart fluttered—once for Leo's invitation, so daring and intimate in its simplicity; once for Sister Elira's, so tender and maternal. She sat up, brushing hair from her face, and glanced down at Mochii nestled in his carrier by her feet. He gave a single contented hop, as if approving of both plans—or at least the possibility of treats from both.
Her mind spun: coffee with Leo, in the familiar hum of campus life—no awkward corridor collisions this time, just two people, two cups, and perhaps the beginning of something more… versus the quiet sanctuary of St Evelyne's garden, stepping back into the only place she'd ever called home, heart in hand, to reunite with the woman who had been her guiding star, she also hoped to meet Miss Hazzel, it has been quiet while she met her too.
She swung her legs over the bed, feet landing on the carpet. "Moch, what do you think?" she murmured, stroking his fur, "Catching up with Sister Elira and Miss Hazzel pulls me more in, it's like been almost a decade… but I have two shifts at the roost and drive to St. Evelyne is at least 30 mins."
Her heart tilted toward Elira — and Miss Hazzel — but something restless inside her pushed at the idea of seeing Leo instead. It wasn't about choosing one over the other forever, she told herself… just today. Just this once.
The rabbit blinked once, then let out a soft squeak—clearly ready for anything as long as it involved fresh vegetables.
Aurora smiled. "I guess I'll have to turn down Sister Elira's request, as you know Mochii, I'll meet up with Leo either at college or at my working hours at the café. It would be good to at least either make an acquaintance or comfort him."
Mochii gave her a side-eye as if he knows she is lying.
"What? Come on I AM serious!" She said after she caught his stare.
He started tickling his ear with his hinge leg, like he meant to say, "Yeah, keep feeding yourself that."
She ignored him and tapped out her reply to Leo:
To Leo:
🐰 Haha, Coffee would be lovely. I'll meet you at Ground Control downstairs, in twenty?
She hit send without a second thought.
Aurora paused at the edge of her living room, the late morning light pooling softly on the hardwood floor. In her hand, her phone hovered above the message draft to Sister Elira. Beside her, Mochii nosed at a stray thread on the couch cushion, his whiskers quivering with quiet encouragement.
Her thumb trembled as she reviewed the words one last time. Dear Sister, thank you so much for thinking of me. My schedule is full today, but I'd love to visit the garden on Wednesday afternoon—will that work for you?
She shook her head, and her finger wildly tapping the delete icon. Her heart tugged at the thought of Sister Elira's gentle smile, the rows of lavender that trembled in the orphanage breeze, and the small kindnesses that had kept her going as a child. But Leo's invitation to meet in the café tugged just as fiercely. She sighed, pressed Send, and watched the little blue check mark appear.
Mochii hopped into her lap, brushing his soft head against her palm. Aurora closed her eyes and whispered, "I promise, Wednesday." Then she lifted her chin and gave the rabbit a soft scratch behind the ears. "But today… today I'll do this."
To Sister Elira:
Dear Sister, you are like a mother to me, you can summon me anytime, as you please. And I'm sorry but I'm pretty tangled up in my schedule, I got two shifts at the café, for I took a day off yesterday, but I'll see you in the orphanage this very Wednesday.
She hit Send before the second-guessing could begin.
Almost at once, Leo's message buzzed back:
🦋 Sounds perfect. But how about coffee at The Roost today? I happen to know you're behind the counter this afternoon.
Aurora's heart gave a hopeful lurch. The Roost was the tiny café on campus where she brewed lattes and pulled shots after class. If he knew her schedule—again—it only proved how closely he watched. She typed:
🐰 The Roost, 3 PM. See you at the counter.
She slipped her phone into her hoodie pocket, glancing down at Mochii, who peered up at her with a twitch of his nose. "Looks like we have a date," she whispered, stroking his soft ears.
And yet, as he looked at her now—really looked at her—Aurora felt something pause inside her. Not the fluttery nerves, not the dreamy haze of before. But something rooted. Grounded.
She didn't know what this was.
But it was real.
And it had officially begun.
The campus lawns glowed in the late afternoon sun as Aurora approached The Roost. Each step felt measured, her nerves humming against her skin. Mochii peeped from his carrier, ears twitching at the distant laughter of students lounging on the grass.
The Roost, spilling warm light across its wooden tables and dust-speckled windows. The café had just begun to hum with that gentle, in-between lull—too late for lunch, too early for dinner.
Pushing open the café door, she was greeted by the familiar rich scent of roasting beans and warm pastries. The low murmur of conversation blended with the hiss of the espresso machine in a comforting symphony. She paused at the counter, smoothing her apron, and gave a small, steadying breath.
She turned away to fill a steaming pitcher with milk, her hands steadying the frothing wand. Every hiss and swirl echoed in her chest until it felt as though each foam ribboned latte art thought might leap from her heart.
Almost an hour into her shift, Aurora was smoothed the folds of her half-apron, her apron string was now tied a little tighter than usual, her hair half-pinned, a few stray strands curling behind her ears as she leaned against the counter, pretending to wipe down a tray she had already cleaned twice.
Aurora flicked a curl behind her ear, and she whispered something to Mochii, who was curled peacefully in his little mesh carrier beside the barstool.
A soft bell chimed as the door opened.
Her eyes flicked to the door again.
Nothing.
Just another student group laughing their way out.
It was silly. She told herself it was silly. It wasn't a date—not really. Just… he said he'd drop by. That's all. After her classes. After his classes, too. No time, no promise.
And yet she'd been waiting since the end of her second lecture.
Waiting since she'd caught a glimpse of him in the hallway earlier that morning, their eyes meeting across the courtyard in the rush between classes. That tiny smirk on his lips when he saw her, and the way his hand subtly gestured—Later. Her breath caught in her throat.
And now? Now, she was chewing the inside of her cheek and pretending to polish mugs.
What if it was all in her head?
What if she read him wrong? She continuously checked her mobile.
What if—
The bell above the door jingled.
The moment the door swung open, and the bell chimed, she somehow knew.
She turned before she could stop herself.
And there he was…There he was—Leo Callahan.
Dressed in a dark sweatshirt that clung lightly to the lines of his shoulders, and hair tousled like he'd just stepped out of some dreamy music video.
The late sun painted his dark hair in copper highlights. He paused in the doorway, taking in the café's cozy bustle, but his gaze slid immediately at her. A slow smile spread across his face—equal parts relief and something gentler, more curious.
Aurora's heart fluttered. She placed the pitcher down and turned, letting the thick foam settle on a single, heart shaped leaf atop a delicate latte.
In an instant her throat went dry. She pretended to be polishing a cup.
Aurora's heart did something strange.
She blinked. Straightened. Tried not to look like she had just sprinted a mental marathon.
He walked over with his usual careless grace, resting his elbows on the counter as he leaned forward slightly. "Busy pretending to work?" His lips curled slowly into a smile like he'd just found something precious. "You didn't think I'd miss your famous coffee art, did you?"
"Busy actually working," she retorted, flipping a clean cup for him. "You're late."
"Fashionably," he shrugged. "Didn't want to make it too easy for you to look forward to me."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile tugged unbidden at her lips.
She tilted her head, trying to play it cool. "Is this your first time here?"
He nodded, draping his arm over the back of the stool, then sliding onto it. "Came for the coffee. Stayed for the view."
Aurora rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed despite herself. She began preparing his order—because of course he already texted her how he liked it: cappuccino, extra foam, cinnamon sprinkle.
She slid the cup toward him, watching as he took a sip and closed his eyes briefly, like he was really tasting it.
She bit her lip. The soft chatter around them buzzed like static, the low jazz music from the speaker playing some mellow saxophone tune.
"Leo…" she began slowly, voice just above a whisper. "How did you know about Mochii?"
His eyes opened, blinking once. "Mochii?"
She pointed her chin down to the carrier. "My rabbit. You mentioned the other day, in the elevator, in the hallway. On chat!"
She kept Mochii's mesh carrier tucked on the back shelf — technically against policy, but no one complained as long as he stayed quiet.
Leo's expression didn't change, but she caught the flicker in his gaze. He leaned forward a little. "You told me, didn't you?"
"No, how the hell I could? You DMed me, casually mentioning him." she said flatly, arms folding over her chest. "I didn't."
He grinned and raised his palms like he was caught mid-prank. "Instagram, maybe?"
Her eyes narrowed. "I don't have a public Instagram. Only one private account. And it was barely two days ago; I renamed it after Mochii."
Leo tilted his head, clearly enjoying the sudden shift in mood. "What was the old name?"
She looked at him suspiciously. "@buttermint.psd," she said slowly.
He blinked in amusement. "That sounds… delicious."
She didn't smile. "It was an old alias. I didn't post anything about my job. Or my rabbit. Not a single picture. So, either you're stalking the air around me, or—"
She trailed off, her mind clicking piece by piece like dominos falling. She lowered her voice even more and leaned toward him, her eyes darkening with seriousness. "To know about Mochii, you first had to know I had a pet. And to know that, you'd have to've seen him."
Leo's smile was slow. Purposeful. He sat back in his chair, swirling the coffee cup in his hand like he had all the time in the world.
Aurora, now leaning fully over the counter, frowned. "You've been watching me."
Leo's eyes glittered with something unreadable—half mischief, half admiration. He tapped the ceramic rim of the cup once, then twice. Then said, "Okay. You want the truth?"
She arched a brow. "I'd appreciate it."
He leaned forward again, this time both arms resting on the countertop, closing the distance between them like the pull of gravity. "I saw you just two or three days ago. Supermarket on Bellwood Avenue."
Aurora blinked. "That's… close to my apartment."
He nodded, unashamed. "You were buying a bar of extra-dark chocolate, a microwavable heat pack, and a single, crumpled packet of sanitary pads nestled beside a bottle of mint soda."
"I remember that trip," she whispered, embarrassingly.
"You dropped a coin. It rolled under one of the snack aisles. You didn't even notice," Leo said, as if recalling a sacred moment. "But I picked it up. And then I saw you stop outside that city park across the street. You were kneeling next to a rabbit."
Her breath caught.
"That rabbit," he added, glancing down to Mochii, "was terrified. His paw was bleeding. You didn't even hesitate."
Aurora stared at him, stunned. The afternoon light stretched long and gold across the café floor, and the air between them thickened with something that felt too big to name.
"You followed me," she finally said.
He didn't deny it.
"You found where I work."
Still no denial.
She looked down, heart thudding. "Why?"
Leo's gaze softened, and he looked at her like she was the first unsolvable riddle in a world full of easy games.
"Because," he said quietly, "you didn't act like anyone else I've met."
She looked up sharply.
He let out a small, half-laugh. "I'm not bragging. But most girls don't ask questions. They just… fall into whatever they think I'm supposed to be." He gestured vaguely to himself—his sculpted jaw, his clothes, his effortless charm. "Prince Charming costume, wicked wolf underneath."
Aurora smirked. "You're not that charming."
Leo leaned even closer, eyes dancing. "But I'm wicked?"
She pushed a sugar packet at him. "Jury's still out."
And for a moment, they both laughed. Quietly. Like a secret being passed between them.
Leo looked at her with a grin so wide it reached his eyes. Inside, his thoughts twisted around her like ivy wrapping up old stone. No girl ever caught onto him this fast. No girl calculated every step he made like Aurora did.
And he liked it. Oh, he really liked it.
This wasn't a routine flirtation. This was a match. And he wasn't about to back down.
Aurora crossed her arms again, eyes still sharp, still watching him. "I'll figure out what else you're hiding."
Leo smiled as he took another sip. "I'm counting on it."
The warm steam from Leo's cup drifted upward, curling between them like an invisible thread. Their playful tension had softened into a rhythm now—teasing remarks layered with flickers of curiosity, questions that danced close to something deeper before retreating again like waves licking the shore.
Aurora rested her elbow on the counter, fingers toying with the paper sleeve of a spare cup. Her eyes occasionally darted to Leo's lips—not that she meant to look there, not consciously at least—but somehow, the way he talked, so leisurely yet so intentional, made it hard to ignore.
A silence settled between them for a few seconds—not uncomfortable, but weighty. Like something waiting.
She glanced down, trying to gather herself before speaking.
"Leo…" Her voice is softer now. Careful. "Can I ask you something?"
Leo tilted his head, that maddeningly amused smile hovering again. "Another interrogation? I'm starting to think you're undercover."
She smiled faintly but didn't laugh. "I'm just… curious, it is only natural, and You don't get a say in this, Mr. Stalker."
That caught his attention. She wasn't teasing now. There was something else in her tone than teasing him—hesitation, maybe even concern.
He gave a single nod, resting his forearms on the counter. "Okay-okay. Go ahead."
She looked at her hands, then met his gaze. "How do you… know things?"
Leo blinked.
She clarified, voice quieter, "About people. About places. Connections. You seem to have this… reach. Like you can just snap your fingers and get anything you want. Anywhere." She searched his face. "How?"
For the first time that evening, Leo didn't immediately have a quip ready.
Aurora, emboldened by the silence, pressed gently. "Rhee mentioned something last night. During our girls' night. She said…"
Her words trailed off as a flicker of memory flared behind her eyes.
Rhee's voice, echoing like a whisper behind her thoughts:
"Leo was once gone for two whole months. No classes. No dorm. No comms. Even the professors were weirdly hush-hush about it. No one knew where he was. Then he just... reappeared and left the dorm. Acting the same as before. Like nothing happened. But he was different."
Aurora blinked hard, deciding against it.
No. Not yet. Too soon. She wasn't ready to play detective—not when she couldn't even look him in the eyes for more than ten seconds without forgetting how to breathe.
Instead, she dropped her gaze and simply said, "Never mind. That came out weird."
His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly when she cut herself off.
But Leo was watching her closely. Too closely. Like he'd seen the shadow of the question behind the one she'd voiced.
After a pause, he leaned back in his seat, lips quirking with that unreadable expression. "Let's just say I'm good at paying attention. People like to talk when they think no one's listening."
She raised a brow. "That's not really an answer."
"It's the only one you'll get today," he replied easily, though there was a glint of something darker in his eyes—just for a flash.
Aurora nodded slowly. A thousand theories spun inside her head, but she pressed them down. She wasn't sure yet if this boy sitting in front of her was a puzzle to solve… or a story waiting to unfold.
Some part of her knew she was leaving questions hanging in the air… and that Leo counted on it.
Mochii made a soft thump against the mesh wall of his carrier, interrupting her thoughts.
Leo looked down. "I think he hates me."
"He doesn't hate people," Aurora said without thinking, then looked at the rabbit and frowned. "Okay, maybe just you."
Leo chuckled. "Jealous, maybe?"
"Of you?" she scoffed, but her lips curved despite herself. "He's smarter than that."
They fell into a lighter rhythm again—tossing small barbs, smiling over shared glances. She offered him a bite of a cinnamon biscuit from the staff tray. He refused but took it anyway when she rolled her eyes. He teased her for having only three playlists on her phone, and she made fun of him for calling himself a minimalist while wearing a designer watch.
Mochii, however, remained curled tightly in his little carrier, ears occasionally twitching with agitation every time Leo leaned too close.
Neither of them noticed when Aurora's phone, resting upside-down near the espresso machine, buzzed softly.
The screen lit up briefly with a notification:
Sister Elira: " Wednesday works perfectly. I'll be here all day. Looking forward to seeing you again, sweet child."
But neither Aurora nor Leo saw it.
Because at that moment, they were laughing—Aurora covering her mouth with her sleeve, Leo leaning in like he was trying to memorize the exact sound of her joy.
The café lights flickered softly as the sun dipped lower behind the clouds, washing the world outside in pastel shades of dusk.
And in that little corner of The Roost, where laughter mingled with the scent of cinnamon and brewing coffee, a strange story had begun to write itself—quiet, curious, and a little dangerous.