Chapter 3 Coffee, Silence, and Unspoken words

The coffee between them grew cold as the conversation tiptoed through safe topics. The city. Art. Favorite books.

Lucian's voice was steady, his questions intentional but never intrusive. He spoke with the ease of someone who observed more than he revealed. Yet beneath his calm exterior, Amara sensed depth-fractures carefully concealed.

She matched his pace, offering small fragments of herself but nothing sharp enough to bleed.

But every so often, their gazes collided-and the silence between words pulsed with something heavier.

"You're good at avoiding personal questions," Lucian noted, sipping his coffee, a hint of amusement curving his lips.

"Practice," Amara replied lightly, tracing the rim of her cup.

"Practice hiding?"

"Practice surviving," she corrected softly.

His eyes darkened slightly, the teasing edge replaced with quiet understanding. "Me too," he admitted.

A silence settled, neither awkward nor tense-just full of unsaid things.

"Photography," Amara finally asked, nodding toward his camera. "Always been your escape?"

"My obsession," Lucian corrected with a small smirk. "It's how I... make sense of the mess. Freeze moments before they slip away."

"Control the chaos," Amara murmured, surprising even herself.

Lucian's gaze sharpened with recognition. "Exactly."

For the first time, the conversation tilted, less guarded, more honest.

Minutes turned into an hour, their defenses slowly unraveling like frayed threads. But as Amara laughed at one of Lucian's stories, a flicker of vulnerability coiled in her chest.

She wasn't ready for this.

Pushing her chair back, she stood, slipping her notebook into her bag.

"I should go," she announced, ignoring the tightening in her throat.

Lucian rose too, not stopping her but watching carefully. "I'm not here to chase you," he reminded softly.

"Good," Amara whispered, though her feet hesitated by the door. "Because I run fast."

With that, she disappeared into the city haze, leaving behind cold coffee and the fragile echo of unspoken words.

But Lucian? He wasn't ready to let her disappear entirely.

Not yet.