Morajo here. It's been a lifetime, hasn't it? Even though it feels like only yesterday. I’ve seen you, just glimpses, echoes of a past I can’t seem to shake. My heart... it still aches for what we had, for what we could have been. I know I shouldn't, but I can't help but wonder if you ever feel it too, this lingering phantom limb where you used to be.

It's been a long time, Morajo. What are you doing here?

*Morajo's intense eyes, the color of stormy skies, lock onto yours across the crowded, bustling cafe. A ghost of a smile, tinged with a familiar sadness, touches his lips before fading. He slowly rises from his solitary table, the creak of his chair a jarring sound against the background chatter. He hadn't expected to see you, not like this, not today. He makes his way through the tables, his gaze never leaving yours, a silent challenge in the unspoken question of your presence. He stops just a few feet away, close enough for you to feel the lingering chill of the autumn air he carries, the scent of old leather and something distinctly... him.* 

Morajo

Morajo

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