Ariel slipped into Java Junction just as the city’s morning mist was finally dissolving, the last remnants clinging to the windows. The bell over the door chimed in a hush, and she felt the weight of every step as she shrugged off her damp coat, curls tumbling loose and unruly around her face. She wrapped her arms around herself, not from cold, but for comfort, as if to keep her insides from scattering.

  She didn’t even have to search for her. Holly was already at the counter, framed in soft light, smile bright and certain.

  “Morning, Red!” Holly called, the nickname landing like a small miracle, as if she’d saved it just for Ariel. Something in Ariel’s chest caught. Both the thrill of being seen and the ache of being so easily disarmed.

  “Good morning,” Ariel managed, her voice small but sure. She moved toward the counter, feeling her pulse trip over itself. As she reached it, she saw Holly preparing a coffee; her coffee, precisely as she liked it: black, just one sugar. No need for questions.

  Ariel paused, blinking in faint surprise. “You remembered.”

  Holly shrugged, casual but clearly delighted. “Of course I did. Corner table, little sugar. You’re not so easy to forget.”

  Ariel fumbled for her wallet, uncertain how to meet such easy care. But Holly waved her off.

  “It’s on me,” she said, voice low and conspiratorial. “Barista perk. I get three acts of kindness a week. This is my first, so don’t tell Jordan I wasted it.”

  Ariel’s hand brushed Holly’s as she took the cup, warmth blooming at the point of contact like a small, steady anchor.

  She turned instinctively to head toward her usual seat in the shadowed back corner, away from everything, but paused. There, by the window, the seat closest to the counter was empty. Exposed, unfamiliar. Still, she hesitated. Then, as if daring herself, she walked over and sat down, heart thudding. The world looked different from here: light pouring through the glass, the register in clear view. Holly visible in every moment.

  From the corner of her eye, Ariel caught the barista noticing. She caught the subtle brightening of Holly’s smile as she realized what had changed. Neither spoke for a while. Ariel sipped her coffee, savoring the precision of it, and let herself sit in the warmth.

  Customers came and went. Holly moved through them all with her usual blend of energy and ease, but she circled back to Ariel whenever she could, each time bringing a new bit of banter, a question, a reason to linger.

  “So,” Holly grinned during a lull, leaning across the counter as if sharing a secret, “new seat?”

  Ariel’s cheeks flushed. “Just… wanted a change.”

  “Great choice. Better acoustics, I think. Higher coffee absorption rate.”

  Ariel arched an eyebrow. “That’s not real science.”

  “Not yet,” Holly winked. “But if I’m right, we’ll both get Nobel Prizes in coffee theory.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  The ease between them was different today. Sharper, more present. Holly lingered a moment, elbows on the counter.

  “You looked super focused yesterday,” she added. “Serious mystery novel energy.”

  Ariel glanced up, smile flickering. “Is that a compliment?”

  “Oh, big time. Brooding, brilliant. Probably a secret drawer full of rare teas.”

  Ariel laughed, the sound surprising her. “I actually do have a tea drawer.”

  Holly feigned a gasp. “I knew it.”

  The café’s rhythm tugged Holly away, but Ariel found herself staying, no urge to run back to old hiding spots. She sipped her coffee and watched the front, watched Holly work, let the new view become familiar.

  Late morning brought a hush. The rush faded. Chairs emptied. Holly pulled a stool from behind the bar and set it across from Ariel, no hesitation, just the certainty of someone who knew she belonged. Ariel didn’t flinch. She offered a shy, genuine smile as Holly sat.

  Holly sipped her own ridiculous iced concoction, arms folded on the tabletop. “So,” she said, her voice quieter in the lull, “are you always up this early, or just showing off?”

  Ariel shrugged. “Just habit. I like mornings. The quiet.”

  Holly’s lips softened. “Same. Before everything gets noisy.”

  A pocket of silence stretched between them—not awkward, but companionable. Holly broke it with a gentle tilt of her head. “So, what kind of work do you do?”

  Ariel hesitated, then confessed, “I’m a lead developer at Willowbound Games. Narrative stuff mostly. I’m working on something called Wispwood Haven.”

  Holly’s eyes lit up. “That’s the cozy survival game that was announced last year, right? I’ve heard of it!”

  Ariel blinked, a little startled. “Yeah. That’s ours.”

  “You just got, like, ten cool points. Maybe twelve,” Holly teased.

  Ariel ducked her head. “It’s still in development.”

  Holly’s gaze was unwavering, gentle but focused. “You’re really talented, huh?”

  Ariel shook her head. “I just… do my part.”

  “Bet your part is the best part.”

  Ariel felt the old impulse to demur, to shrink, but she found herself smiling instead. She changed the subject, soft-voiced: “Do you like working here?”

  “I love it,” Holly answered, brightening again. “Jordan’s awesome. The regulars are sweet. Free coffee’s a bonus. But honestly, I think I mostly like the company.”

  She leaned in, chin on her hand. “And the view from this side of the counter’s been excellent lately.”

  Ariel’s heart skipped. “Oh?”

  Holly’s smile deepened—soft, a little shy, but real. “Definitely.”

  A long, quiet beat.

  Ariel didn’t look away. She didn’t shrink. Instead, she leaned forward, elbows on the table, gaze steady. Something in her chest eased, and for the first time, she wanted the moment to keep stretching.

  “Hey,” Holly asked, as if reading her, “you okay?”

  Ariel nodded, her voice quiet but certain. “Yeah. I am.”

  Holly’s shoulders relaxed. She let her own silence linger, then nudged the conversation toward something lighter.

  “So. Favorite place in Seattle?”

  Ariel blinked, the question catching her off guard. “Like… any place?”

  “Anywhere you go to breathe. To feel good. To disappear, if you want.”

  Ariel glanced down, turning her empty cup in her hands. “There’s this rooftop garden behind an office building in Belltown. Hardly anyone knows about it. You can see the Sound, if the light’s right.”

  Holly’s brows rose. “That sounds dreamy.”

  Ariel nodded, warming. “And this Korean BBQ place down the street. Best bulgogi. And there’s a secret lake east of Green Lake, where the water goes gold in the fall. I take a book and just… let time stop.”

  Holly rested her chin in her hand, eyes alight. “I want to see all of that. Keep going.”

  Ariel laughed, a softer, braver sound. “There’s a café that opens at six a.m. with the best scones and no music. And a used bookstore in Fremont, with a cat under the register and a punch card.”

  She stopped, sheepish. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Holly said. “That’s the best list I’ve ever heard. You should be a tour guide.”

  A comfortable hush. Then Holly checked the clock, glanced back.

  “I get off at four today. If you’re free… want to show me one of those secret places?”

  Ariel stilled. Her mouth went dry. Then, quietly, she nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”