The soft clack of Lina's keys filled the quiet again, steady and unhurried. The wind stirred the umbrella above them. Somewhere in the distance, someone laughed too loud, but here—here it was all soft edges.
"Your class starts?" Lina asked, eyes still on her screen.
"Three-thirty," Emily murmured, not moving.
Lina paused, glanced at the time on her laptop. "It's almost time."
Emily checked her phone, then frowned. "I don't want to go."
Lina's fingers hovered above the keys. "You have to."
"I know," Emily said, voice low, as if saying it quietly might change the truth of it. "But I don't want to."
She sat back, eyes flicking between the half-melted ice in her cup and Lina's face.
"I like it here," she added. "Like this."
Lina finally looked at her.
There was something gentle in her gaze now—something that didn't tease, didn't flirt. Just… understood.
"I like it too," she said softly.
Emily exhaled, slow and deep, as though she'd been holding that breath all along.
