Professor Miller had lost track of the days without Sophia when a message from her lit up his phone. He grabbed it, nearly dropping it in his haste, and opened the app. The message was brief: "Luna Café, today, 6:00 PM. Please come." He read it over and over. Two weeks of silence, two weeks of spiraling thoughts, and now she was back—just as suddenly as she'd vanished.
He arrived early, claiming a table by the window where the soft glow of streetlights mingled with the warm wooden interior. Uncertainty gnawed at him. Would she be angry? Accusing? Was she here to say goodbye, to quit the university? Or maybe to confess her feelings? Memories of that night in his office haunted him, and he checked his watch and messages every thirty seconds.
The café door creaked, and Sophia stepped inside. Her hair was woven into a braid, her loose jeans paired with a light blue long-sleeve and her usual sneakers. She spotted him instantly but hesitated, her steps slowing as if unsure whether to approach.
David stood, his throat tight, words failing him.
"Sophia," he said softly, her name a constant echo in his mind for weeks. "Where have you been?"
He cringed, realizing it wasn't the right thing to say. Something more important needed to come out. He rushed on.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say we should stop. That's not what I want at all. I've been looking for you, calling, texting, waiting."
"Thank you for looking," she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. "That means a lot to me. I… I needed time. I'm sorry I disappeared." Her words carried raw honesty. "I didn't know how to handle… whatever this is between us."
Miller gazed at her, seeing his own fear and confusion mirrored in her eyes.
"What do you feel?" he asked.
Sophia looked up, a spark flickering in her gaze—the same spark from that night.
"I'm scared," she whispered. "Scared of how much I want you. Of how it's changing me. I couldn't come back because… it's too much. But I can't stop thinking about you."
Her words hung in the air, shattering the last of Miller's defenses. He stepped toward her, oblivious to the café's hum, the cooling coffee on the table, the world beyond her. His hand brushed her cheek, and she didn't pull away—instead, she leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut.
"I can't stop thinking about you either," he confessed. "These two weeks… I've been losing my mind."
Her eyes met his, brimming with quiet joy.
"Really?" she asked, hope softening her voice.
"Really," he said, his thumb grazing her cheek.
She stepped closer, her hands resting lightly on his chest.
"I don't know what we're doing," she whispered, "but I don't want to run anymore."
He pulled her into a gentle embrace, then held her tightly, as if anchoring himself to her. The café, the people, the ticking of time—all faded. Only she remained, just as she was in his dreams, though her perfume was different today.
Sophia smiled, her usual boldness softened by tenderness.
"We'll figure it out, right?" she asked quietly.
Miller nodded, still holding her hand.
"Yeah. Together."