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The morning sun peeked through the curtains, spilling golden light across Elara's room. She woke early, her alarm unnecessary as her internal clock had adjusted to her new routine. Slipping into her workout gear, she tied her short hair back and grabbed her earphones before heading out for her usual jog.
The streets were quiet, save for the occasional chirping of birds and the distant hum of a car engine. Plugging in her earphones, she let the beat of her workout playlist guide her pace. Her focus was on improving her stamina—one step at a time.
After jogging for nearly an hour, her legs burned, but she pushed through, determined to exceed her limits. Back at home, she didn't stop. A session of squats, planks, push-ups, and shadow boxing awaited her. Each movement felt like a step toward the strength she craved, the strength she needed to avoid the mistakes of her past life.
Breathing heavily, she leaned back against her bedroom wall, sweat dripping down her face. It wasn't enough yet—she needed more, but her body begged for a break. With a sigh, she headed to the bathroom for a cold shower to cool down and refresh herself.
Once dressed in a simple white blouse and light blue jeans, Elara made her way to the kitchen, where her mother was already bustling about.
"Morning, Mom," she greeted, grabbing a glass of water.
Her mother looked up, a warm smile on her face. "Morning, my hardworking girl. Don't push yourself too hard, though. Have some breakfast. I made your favorite pancakes."
Elara couldn't resist the smell of the fresh pancakes, and she sat down to eat while chatting casually with her mother. She noticed how her mom's eyes lingered on her, as if still trying to figure out this new, driven version of her daughter.
Halfway through her meal, her phone buzzed on the counter. Wiping her hands, Elara picked it up to see a message from Amelia:
"Hey! Wanna meet up for coffee later? We haven't hung out in ages. Same café as before?"
Elara smiled at the message. Despite the changes in her life, Amelia's energy remained a constant comfort. She quickly replied: "Sure. What time?"
---
Elara stared at her reflection, brushing back her now-short hair with a casual touch. Amelia's call had come as a pleasant surprise, a welcome break from her relentless training and planning. A simple meet-up at a nearby café seemed innocent enough, but Elara couldn't shake the unease she'd felt since that amusement park outing.
Arriving at the café, the warm aroma of roasted coffee beans and the soft hum of chatter greeted her. Amelia was already seated by the window, her phone in hand as she scrolled absentmindedly. Elara smiled, making her way over and plopping into the seat opposite her friend.
"You're late," Amelia teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Blame my mother. She made me try on five outfits before letting me leave the house," Elara replied, rolling her eyes dramatically.
Amelia chuckled. "Well, you're here now. Go grab your order; I'll watch your stuff."
Nodding, Elara stood and made her way to the counter. The line was short, and as she stepped forward to place her order, she felt a strange chill pass through her, like an invisible thread pulling her senses taut. Shaking off the feeling, she ordered her coffee.
Turning with the cup in hand, she collided into a firm chest. The jolt sent her drink wobbling precariously before steady hands caught it in a fluid motion.
"I'm so sorry!" Elara blurted, looking up at the man she'd bumped into.
He was tall, his frame exuding a quiet strength. His sharp, chiseled features were accentuated by a pair of icy gray eyes that seemed to pierce straight through her. His aura was suffocatingly cold, as though he carried an entire winter storm within him.
For a moment, her 26-year-old instincts kicked in, warning her of the danger this man radiated. Yet, she couldn't look away.
The man's gaze flicked over her, assessing, before he handed the cup back to her without a word.
"I'm really sorry," she repeated, her voice softer this time, unsure why she felt the need to explain herself. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
His lips pressed into a thin line, his silence unnerving. Finally, he spoke, his voice as cold as his demeanor. "Next time, watch your step."
The simplicity of his words sent a shiver down her spine. Before she could say anything else, he stepped past her, his long strides carrying him toward the exit.
Elara stood frozen for a moment, the bustling café around her fading into the background. Who was that?
Grabbing another coffee, she returned to Amelia, who raised an eyebrow at her dazed expression.
"What took you so long? Did you meet Prince Charming?" Amelia teased.
Elara shook her head, snapping out of her thoughts. "More like an ice king. I bumped into someone... he was... strange."
Amelia leaned forward, intrigued. "Strange how? Handsome?"
Elara's lips twitched. "Too handsome, and way too cold."
Amelia let out a dramatic sigh. "Sounds like the start of a romance novel. You should've gotten his number."
Elara scoffed, taking a sip of her coffee. But her thoughts betrayed her calm exterior. The man's icy gaze lingered in her mind, a reminder that she wasn't as unshaken as she wanted to believe.
For the rest of their chat, Amelia's lively banter filled the space, but Elara's mind drifted back to the mysterious man.