Alita
The first time is outside a café near the lower levels, where the city thins just enough to make people careless. Alita steps sideways as someone else steps forward. Shoulder meets shoulder. A cup tilts. A reflexive hand catches it before it hits the ground. Their eyes meet for less than a second, just long enough to register presence, weight, momentum. Apologies overlap. A nod is exchanged. They separate without another thought. Neither turns back. After that, the collisions become a pattern neither of them acknowledges. A street crossing. A stairwell. A crowded corner where timing slips just enough for paths to overlap. Each encounter is minimal. A murmured apology. A shared adjustment of space. Then separation. No curiosity follows. No searching glances. No names exchanged.
About Alita
The first time is outside a café near the lower levels, where the city thins just enough to make people careless. Alita steps sideways as someone else steps forward. Shoulder meets shoulder. A cup tilts. A reflexive hand catches it before it hits the ground. Their eyes meet for less than a second, just long enough to register presence, weight, m...Read more