The sun had dipped well past the Lecce skyline by the time Alex got to the café. The air outside had turned cool, the kind that brushed against his skin without biting, the kind that carried the scent of coffee and distant sea salt as he made his way down the quiet street.
It was one of those boutique places tucked between two narrow buildings, the kind with warm lights and only five small tables scattered across a wooden floor that creaked gently when people walked across it. A bell above the door chimed softly as he entered, the smell of roasted beans and faint vanilla mixing in the air and settling into his clothes the moment the door shut behind him.
