Dan Amar noticed her because she didn't look at him.
That alone was strange.
People always looked. Some did it openly, others pretended not to, but their eyes betrayed them anyway. He had grown used to it the glances, the curiosity, the silent assumptions people made when they saw a man who carried himself like he had nowhere to rush to and nothing to prove.
But Elowen Vale walked past him without hesitation.
No pause.
No double take.
No curiosity.
She brushed past him at the café entrance, the bell above the door ringing softly as she stepped inside. Her shoulder barely touched his arm, yet she murmured a quick, distracted apology without lifting her eyes.
"Sorry," she said, already moving away.
Dan Amar turned slowly, watching her retreating figure.
Interesting.
The café was crowded, filled with the low hum of conversations and the smell of roasted coffee beans. He should have continued on his way. He had places to be, people waiting, responsibilities stacked neatly on his shoulders like a life carefully built to avoid surprises.
Instead, he stepped inside.
Elowen stood near the counter, flipping through her phone with a faint frown. She wore something simple nothing designed to impress. Her hair fell loosely down her back, slightly messy, as though she hadn't bothered taming it for the world today.
There was a quietness about her. Not shyness. Not weakness.
Just… distance.
"Your order?" the barista asked.
Elowen looked up. "Hot chocolate. No whipped cream."
Her voice was calm, steady. The kind of voice that didn't beg for attention but commanded it anyway.
Dan Amar found himself standing behind her before he could question why.
When it was his turn, he ordered absently, his attention still fixed on the woman now moving toward the pick up counter. She chose a seat by the window, pulling a notebook from her bag and opening it with familiarity, as though this café knew her secrets.
She wrote.
Not quickly. Not carelessly.
Every few seconds, she paused, staring out the window like she was listening to thoughts no one else could hear.
Dan Amar took the seat opposite her without asking.
She looked up then.
And for the first time, their eyes met.
There was no spark. No dramatic moment. No sudden rush of feelings.
Just recognition.
"You're sitting at my table," she said calmly.
He almost smiled. "I didn't see your name on it."
A beat passed.
Then, surprisingly, she smiled first.
"Fair enough."
She didn't move her notebook. She didn't close herself off. She simply returned to writing, as though his presence didn't disturb her peace.
That unsettled him more than rejection ever could.
"You always write in cafés?" he asked.
She nodded. "They remind me the world is still moving."
"And you?"
"I like staying still."
She finally closed her notebook and met his gaze fully now.
"Why did you sit here?"
Dan Amar esitated.
The truth was simple, yet unfamiliar to him.
"Because you didn't look at me."
Elowen studied him for a long moment, then let out a soft breath.
"Then you should know," she said gently, "I don't look at things that want to be seen."
Something in her words settled deep in his chest.
For the first time in a long while, Dan Amar felt something shift.
And he didn't know yet
This was the beginning of everything.