The morning sun cast long, gentle shadows across the cobblestone paths as Daisy made her way to the library. Autumn had arrived in Paris, and with it, a crispness in the air that carried the scent of fallen leaves and distant fireplaces. Daisy pulled her scarf a little tighter around her neck, trying to shake off the lingering unease that had followed her since the previous evening.
She had spent a restless night, her thoughts spinning around the stranger she had encountered on the bench—the man who had stormed off in such a hurry that he'd left his wallet behind. The wallet, now resting securely in her bag, had become a symbol of her worry. She didn't know who he was, but the intensity in his eyes, the way he had carried himself, stuck with her in a way she couldn't quite explain.
As she approached the library, the familiar sight of the grand stone building brought a small measure of comfort. The library was a sanctuary for her—a place where she could lose herself in the pages of a book, where the world outside faded away, and her thoughts could quiet. But today, there was a nervous energy in her steps, a sense of anticipation that made her heart beat a little faster.
Daisy pushed open the heavy wooden door, stepping into the hushed interior. The library was already filled with the quiet hum of activity—students buried in their studies, the soft rustle of pages turning, the occasional tap of a keyboard. She paused for a moment, letting the calm atmosphere wash over her, before scanning the room for any sign of the man whose wallet she carried.
It didn't take long to find him. He was seated at a table near the back, surrounded by an array of open books and a laptop that glowed with the soft light of an active screen. His expression was one of intense focus, his brow furrowed as he leaned over the screen, typing furiously.
Daisy hesitated at the entrance, her heart pounding as she considered her next move. How would she return the wallet? Just walking up to him and handing it over felt far too direct. She wasn't sure how he would react, and the last thing she wanted was to embarrass him—or herself.
After a moment of indecision, Daisy took a deep breath and slowly made her way through the aisles, her footsteps soft on the carpeted floor. She kept her distance, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. As she approached, she could see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders were hunched slightly as he leaned over his laptop, engrossed in whatever he was working on.
Her stomach twisted with nerves. Seeing him up close, so absorbed, so intense, made her feel even more hesitant. What if he didn't want to be interrupted? What if returning the wallet now would only add to whatever burden he was carrying?
Just as she was about to turn back, Ferdinand's phone buzzed loudly on the table. He glanced at the screen, his expression tightening as he read the message. Without a word, he stood up, grabbing his phone and walking briskly toward the exit, leaving his belongings spread out across the table.
This was her chance. The moment he disappeared from view, Daisy hurried over to his table. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled the wallet from her bag and placed it beside his laptop. Just returning the wallet felt too impersonal. She wanted to reach out, to connect in some small way.
With a shaky hand, Daisy pulled out a sticky note and scribbled a quick message:
*You left this on the bench yesterday. How about breakfast today at 11?*
She stared at the note for a moment, her heart pounding. It was a simple invitation, but it felt like so much more. It was a small gesture of kindness, a way to bridge the gap between them. After a moment's hesitation, she flipped the note over and added:
*If yes, then at the coffee shop at the north of the campus.*
Satisfied, she carefully placed the note on top of the wallet, making sure it was in plain sight. Then, before she could second-guess herself, Daisy hurried back to her own table, where she could watch discreetly without being too obvious.
She settled into her chair, trying to focus on her work, but her mind kept drifting back to the note. Every few minutes, she found herself peeking over at Ferdinand's table, her heart racing each time she thought she heard footsteps approaching. Her eyes kept flicking to the door, waiting for him to return, wondering how he would react when he saw the wallet and the note.
Minutes ticked by, each one stretching out longer than the last. The library remained a haven of quiet, but for Daisy, the tension was palpable. She felt like she was holding her breath, waiting for a moment that could go in so many different directions. Would he be angry? Would he appreciate the gesture? Would he even notice?
Finally, she heard the sound of footsteps. Daisy's heart skipped a beat as Ferdinand re-entered the library, his expression still stern, his focus seemingly unbroken. He returned to his table and immediately noticed the wallet. Daisy watched as he picked it up, a frown creasing his brow.
Her breath caught in her throat as he spotted the note. He stared at it for a moment, his expression unreadable. Daisy felt a surge of anxiety—what if he thought the note was presumptuous? What if he didn't understand that it was meant to be friendly?
But then, she saw a flicker of something in his eyes—a hint of surprise, maybe even curiosity. He turned the note over, reading the message on the back. Daisy's pulse quickened as she waited, her eyes fixed on him, trying to gauge his reaction.
Ferdinand stood there for what felt like an eternity, holding the note in one hand and the wallet in the other. His face remained impassive, but Daisy thought she saw the corners of his mouth twitch, just the slightest movement, almost like the beginnings of a smile. It was a fleeting expression, but it was enough to make her heart leap.
Then, with a surprising tenderness, he folded the note carefully and tucked it into his wallet. Daisy watched as he slipped the wallet into his pocket and then sat down, his focus shifting back to his laptop as if nothing had happened.
But something had happened, Daisy was sure of it. She felt a strange mix of relief and excitement, like she had made a small but significant connection. She wasn't sure what would come of it—whether he would show up for breakfast or simply leave it at that—but for now, just knowing that he had seen the note and reacted, however subtly, was enough.
For the rest of the morning, Daisy found it hard to concentrate on her work. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Ferdinand, to the note, to what might happen next. She kept peeking over at his table, watching him as he typed away, completely absorbed in whatever task he was working on.
At one point, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off a headache. Daisy felt a pang of sympathy—he looked tired, maybe even a little worn down. She wondered what kind of pressures he was under, what had driven him to such a state of focus and determination.
But she didn't dare approach him. Instead, she stayed where she was, content to watch from a distance, hoping that her small gesture had made some kind of impact. The hours ticked by slowly, the anticipation building with each passing minute.
As the clock edged closer to 11, Daisy found herself growing more and more nervous. She didn't know what she would do if he actually showed up at the coffee shop. What would she say? How would she act? The thought of sitting across from him, trying to make conversation, felt both thrilling and terrifying.
But for now, she stayed put, her eyes drifting back to Ferdinand every few minutes, trying to read his mood, his movements, anything that might give her a clue about what he was thinking. He remained focused, his expression a mask of concentration, giving nothing away.
At 10:45, she saw him glance at his watch. Her heart skipped a beat. Was he preparing to leave? Was he planning to meet her, or was he simply wrapping up his work? She watched closely as he began to gather his things, her breath catching in her throat.
But before he could make any decisive move, the clock chimed softly in the background, signaling the approach of the hour. Daisy's thoughts were in turmoil. She didn't know what to expect, and the uncertainty made her feel both excited and apprehensive. Would he leave, or would he stay? Would he go to the coffee shop, or would he continue his day as if nothing had happened?
As the minutes ticked by, Daisy found herself caught in a moment of suspended anticipation, her heart pounding as she waited for the answer she wasn't sure she was ready to face.