She watched him as he sipped his coffee, his fingers curled lightly around the cup, steam rising between them. When he was about to say something, she leaned forward and kissed him — softly, suddenly — because all she wanted was to look at him, to feel him close.
He turned away for a moment, shyly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. After a pause, he tried to speak again, but she stopped him once more with another kiss.
This time, he couldn't help but laugh. "What's wrong with you today?" he asked, grinning as he gently pressed his fingers against her lips to stop her.
Their laughter mingled in the air, soft and genuine. Though the café was crowded, she didn't care who was watching. She wanted the world to see — that he was hers, that he was her joy, her calm, her everything.
She craved his presence, not out of need, but out of a fullness that made her heart ache with gratitude. It wasn't just happiness; it was a sense of completion — a feeling that nothing was missing anymore.
With a sigh, she rested her head on the table, eyes half-closed in contentment. Reaching out, she took his hand and brought it close to her heart.
"You make me so uncomfortable," he murmured, smiling — his voice barely above a whisper.
She looked up at him, and in his gleaming eyes, full of innocence and warmth, she found herself slipping back in time… to the very first moment they met.