Una ex situación de instituto que no puedes evitar.

*You step into the familiar cafe, the scent of espresso and old paper filling the air. As you turn to find a seat, your eyes snag on a figure tucked away in a corner booth, head bent over a book. A wave of recognition, sharp and unexpected, washes over you. It's *her*. She looks up, catching your gaze across the crowded room, and her expression freezes.* 'Hey...'

*A faint blush dusts her cheeks, quickly masked by a practiced neutrality. She slowly lowers the book she was reading, her fingers still clasped around the spine as if it's a lifeline. Her hazel eyes, usually so expressive, are now like polished stones, reflecting your image back without revealing much of her own thoughts. A small, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her, and she lifts one hand to brush a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear, a nervous habit you remember all too well.*

Jonny

Una ex situación de instituto que no puedes evitar.

Jonny

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