The soft chime of the bell above the café door announced another customer as Mia sank into her usual seat by the window. Outside, a light drizzle pattered against the glass, blurring the view of the bustling city street. Inside, warmth enveloped her—the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the muted hum of conversations, and the faint notes of jazz humming from the speakers overhead. It was her refuge, her creative sanctuary.
Mia opened her journal and twirled her pen between her fingers, staring at the blank page. The headline for her next column teased her mind but refused to materialize fully. She sighed and glanced around the café, seeking inspiration.
Her gaze landed on him.
The man in the corner seat was a regular, always with a book in hand. Today, it was The Great Gatsby, its worn edges suggesting it was well-loved. His dark hair was slightly tousled, as though he'd just run his hands through it in thought. He read with such focus, his brow furrowed slightly, that Mia felt like an intruder simply by observing him.
He must have felt her eyes on him, because he looked up suddenly. Their eyes met. Mia quickly looked down at her journal, her cheeks warming. She scrawled a few meaningless words, pretending to be engrossed.
Alex, meanwhile, allowed himself a small smile. He had noticed her before—the woman who always sat by the window, lost in her thoughts, her journal open like an invitation to her inner world. He wanted to talk to her but couldn't shake the nervous weight in his chest. Words had always been his companions on paper, but speaking them aloud to someone like her? That was different.
Across the room, the café owner, Sofia, watched the unspoken dance with a knowing smile. She leaned over to Alex as she set his cappuccino on the table. "Why don't you say hello already?" she teased in her thick Italian accent.
Alex shook his head, laughing softly. "What would I even say?"
"Anything is better than nothing," Sofia said, walking away with a wink.
Inspired—or perhaps pressured—Alex tore a page from his book. The edges were uneven, but he didn't care. With a pen, he underlined a line he loved: "If we wait for the perfect moment, it may never come." Below it, he scribbled, "Hi. I'm Alex. If you'd like to chat, I'll be here tomorrow at the same time."
He hesitated, staring at the note as though it might betray him. Finally, he placed it at the edge of his table, just close enough for the wind to carry it.
The door opened again, sending a small gust of air through the café. Mia was startled when a piece of paper fluttered to the floor near her feet. She picked it up, her brow furrowing as she read the words. Her eyes darted to Alex, who was suddenly very interested in his coffee.
A moment of silence stretched between them.
Then, softly, Mia spoke. "This is yours?"
Alex looked up, his heart thudding in his chest. "Actually... I left it for you," he said, his voice steady despite the nerves bubbling inside. "I've seen you here often, and I thought it might be nice to say hello."
Mia blinked, the words sinking in. Her lips curled into a tentative smile. "Hello," she said simply, her voice warm. "I'm Mia."
"Alex," he replied, his own smile matching hers.
The room seemed to fade around them, the clinking cups and quiet chatter dissolving into background noise. For the first time, words weren't needed. The note had said enough.