Whispers of the heart

hy. Perhaps it was the familiar comfort of the café, or maybe it was the hope of crossing paths wit

und her: a couple sharing a quiet breakfast, an elderly man reading the paper, a young woman typing on her laptop. But soon, sh

ence nearby. She looked up and there he was-Daniel-standing by her table,

aid, as if both sur

re replied, unable

f I joi

ween them, but it was filled with the kind of unspoken understanding that didn't require words. Claire f

oday?" he asked, nodding t

rent page, away from his sketch. "I like capturing momen

brow. "Sounds like y

him. "What about you? I noticed you were re

be... an observer." He took a sip of his coffee, his fingers absentmindedly tracing t

the same frequency, sharing an appreciation for the world's quieter moments. She wondered if he

g. "Sometimes, in the quiet, e

owing smile playing o

re of the other's presence. She could feel her cheeks warm, caught between want

ain, his voice low and almost te

ctually. It's my favori

ectly. "Same here. There's something ab

he understood, and without really thinking,

s expression thought

voice softer this time. "I don't know why, but it f

f the odd sense of familiarity she felt with

mantics," he replied, with a gentle s

close. Claire found herself sharing things she hadn't spoken about in ages. There was an ease between them, a kind of

around them. The world beyond their table seemed to blur, leaving only the sound

disappointment crossed his face. "I shoul

ang of disappointment. "Of course.

words. "Do you think... maybe we could

nd she couldn't help but sm

eyes softening as he took in

. Finally, he nodded, a quiet promise

she'd only just met, but as she sat back down, the memory of his words lingered. There was something differe

herself to hope-to wonder what could be, if she le