𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 :-- 𝟏🧿
The Storm.
The rain in London didn't just fall; it poured, turning the cobblestone streets into shimmering rivers. Elara, a twenty-four-year-old aspiring illustrator, ducked into "The Rusty Page," her favorite bookstore-café, seeking shelter.
The shop was crowded. With her sketchbook clutched to her chest, she scanned the room for a seat. There was only one empty chair, right across from a young man reading a worn-out copy of Pride and Prejudice. He had messy brown hair and glasses that slightly slipped down his nose.
"Is this taken?" Elara asked softly, shaking water from her umbrella.
The man looked up, startled. His eyes were a warm hazel. "No, please, sit. It's terrible out there."