. I had been there for hours, my books spread across the small wooden table, pretending to study while m

n, he w

llowing him. But to me, everything stopped. The gentle hum of the coffee grinder, the faint murm

you wonder if it was intentional, and his smile-God, that smile-was the kind that could disarm even the coldest

, another face in the crowd. But something about hi

an I si

e was standing right in front of me, gesturing to the empty

ying to sound casual, as if my wo

o the seat. He placed his coffee cup on the table and pulled ou

mething about the way he furrowed his brow while writing, the way he tapped his pen agai

at strangers like t

son. I hadn't realiz

book. My cheeks burned as I tried to focus on the words in f

ckling softly. "I'm j

s the b

st as much as he loved sketching random buildings in his notebook. He was funny in a dry, sarcastic way that I found irr

t his plans to travel the world, to design skyscrapers that would touch the clouds. I told hi

r years instead of hours. By the time we left the coff

would come at a cost. That this moment, this fleeting

being Liam-the guy who made everyone feel special, the

, and he was already s