Chapter 21 — Early Sparks
The café smelled of coffee and cinnamon rolls.
Arin stirred his drink absently, eyes on the window.
Meira slid into the seat across from him, smiling.
"You're quiet today," she teased.
"I'm always quiet," he muttered, voice low.
"Not with me," she replied, leaning closer.
"You let me see you. A little, at least."
Arin blinked, startled by the observation.
"…Maybe," he said carefully, "I trust you enough not to push me away."
Meira's eyes softened.
"That's all I need."
They walked together after, side by side, the world feeling smaller, warmer, quieter.
"You know," Meira said, glancing at him, "I like how you see things others miss."
Arin gave a small, almost shy smile.
"And I like how you notice things I don't even say."
Their hands brushed as they parted at the street corner. Neither pulled away. Neither spoke.
A simple touch. A moment.
Enough to let something fragile, bright, and alive begin to grow.
And for the first time in years, Arin felt like he could let someone in—not all at once, but piece by piece.