A Mirror Too Honest

TORY ABOUT LOVE

of fluorescent lights buzzed in Sophia's ears as she s

ding a literal cartoon of "heart-shaped pigeons" to illustrate dating apps, or the middle sectio

ed, watching her with an expression

softly, "I'm actuall

ng that reads like a divorce letter to modern love?" Sophia snapped, whipp

icking it up. "And honest. And maybe... h

errifying,

in 2025 is just an algorithm pretending to care.'" H

urate. And it's exactly w

ed gently. "And not angry at

es nar

she re

fect storm of bad vibes. You and me, deadlines and doodles. Structure

linked.

ine. Every sentence. Even the way the

outh, but the wo

he was

as t

't just bad-it

ion of every argument, every clashing day, every frus

Sophia feel exposed, unc

ced the h

ftly, leaning forward, "that

she whi

Maybe. But maybe that's exact

ked up

e asked, s

ct. Love isn't always pretty. Sometimes it's messy, frustrating, and infuria

ch him. Or hug him.

appreciate the 'exactly like

ged. "Wort

s. "We need to fix this. Immediat

his chair. "Or we co

voice firm. "We

ow. "Together, huh

r. Otherwise,

ly grin, he said, "You know, for someone so obsess

"I'm not easy to

aid we fix

arper. "Because this draft is a d

ting, light-hearted laugh that made Sophia's stom

s pa

so and freshly baked bread. It was bustling, bu

laptop, showing a haphazard series of dood

nored it.

of a couple holding a smartphone in

ning offense. "That'

s called lazy. And it

ng me insane,

ared at h

just... your energy. It's powerful. Overpowering. In

"Do you know how hard it is to rewrite this dis

softened.

y. "You need to focu

on a battlefield?" he sug

gainst all rational judg

ly. "What's that?" he

ring it," she s

sion softened. "You know... I didn't

she admitted

here w

asn't awkward. It wasn't tense. It wasn

frag

ard. "We have to focus. Othe

y there. But... something tells me this

tened. She wanted to

on the page alrea

ul, frustrating-was staring bac

oulders. Dean was doodling quietly now, murmuring

ell over the ca

ing a couple of studen

from the café street

in pockets. S

s breat

ly, leaning forward. "

t obviously threatening. But the presence alone

d something ac

ar hers. They exchanged a look-a sil

he note with tr

r w

s runni

ded. Hard. Sha

as low. "They'

he staff hadn't noticed. The cust

ow what yet,

gered, hood up

t like before. Vanishing into the stree

shook as she f

ncil tightened. "This

ing out the window. "And it's

as a disagreement over schedules, sk

just fighti

just fighti

ghting... so

erate. Something that had eyes on

s on her, steady, reassuring, warm. And she wa

he di

t was d

horical. Someone is watching. Someone is targeting them. And Dean and Sophia

d. Every hum of the espresso machine, every clatter of dishes, even the lo

oodling, still sketching emotional beats into his notebook, oblivi

uietly, "I think our

hovered above the keyboard like she might strike someone. "We're

't get it. The draft is love.

"It's a disaster. Ange

ow. "Maybe she won't care. May

on the keyboard. "This isn't

ing it," he t

t," she

er. "Alright, alright. Truce. But a

gnore

their first "collaborative" draft was fini

had interviewed couples and singles and carefully analyzed data. Eve

ating disasters. Pigeons. Cats. People swiping aggressively

rrifying way, it captured something real-an

ng. "This... this isn't a feature. This is.

It's a feature on modern love. A

? People want clarity. Structure

he countered, voice low

s were soft. Serious.

ossible," s

gaze lingered on her. The way it made her stomach clench. The way it

need to submit it. Ang

d. "Do we sub

mly. "We rewrite. Tog

ow. "You really wa

"Or we both die i

screens. Pencils scratched fur

ded something ridiculous. Every time Dean tried to doodle

how... i

was a pulse, a rhythm, a story beneath t

en them remained. Electric

alling into his eyes, his brow furrowed in concentration,

uriating. He was chaotic. He was distracting.

he di

faintly without looking up. "Care

"I'm not loo

ly are," h

keyboard harder than

ake a shape that could survive Angel

gnore

n a

up. "It's

checked it, h

Number:

ulse

loser. "What

know. Stop what

age arrived

raft is not enough. N

. Her eyes widened. "Dea

wed hard.

she typed: Who is t

espo

ers muffled into background noise. The bar

low, tense. "We n

ickly packing her

the early evening light.

tried to pretend it was just s

warned them. And the draft-the first dra

y, side by side, s

e?" Sophia asked,

"Not yet. But it's li

ween two parked cars. Hood u

caught. "There

ctively. "Stay close. Don't

as. Every instinct told Sophia to run faster, to scream. But Dean

away to disappear into the crowd, just close

t heaved. "Wh

scanning the street. "It's not just the draft," he said fina

. "Together? You me

ice low. Almost a whisper. "

What... what a

ectly in front of them, blocking the street.

ia f

ively moved i

a threatening gesture. Not yet. But something

ssed a folded note into Dean's hand-an

it. Sophia l

crawled in sh

not esca

cold. Dean's grip ti

, shadows shifted. Som

about deadlines, dood

about s

cing a threat that's very real-and very close. Someone is watching