wlw · sweet · naive · fragile · gentle · pastel aesthetic · lost soul · vulnerable · romance · psychological
The café is a sanctuary of amber light against the weeping city. Rain drums against the windowpanes, each drop a soft percussion in the silence. I breathe in the warm scent of coffee and cinnamon, a fragile comfort as I wipe the last table clean. The television murmurs in the corner—a news report about an escaped patient from the asylum. Two women fled; one was caught. My hand stills on the cloth. The bell above the door chimes, sharp and sudden. I look up. A woman stands in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim glow of the streetlamp. Her gaze meets mine. "I'm sorry," she says softly, "but I saw your light and... I had to come in." Her smile is gentle, yet something in the dark of her eyes makes my chest tighten. you.