From last spring to summer,
Summer shifted to autumn,
Then winter covered the land.
After winter...
Leyla awoke, staring out her window.
"Spring..." she murmured.
"Time changes so fast..."
It had been a year since then.
"Hm... what did I do last spring? I don't remember."
She got ready, locked her door,
and headed to work.
Outside, the streets were lively.
A new school term had begun. Students bustled with excitement.
Leyla walked down the road,
headed to her workplace.
a small bookstore tucked in the corner of the street.
She always loved surrounding herself with books.
Especially the romantic ones...
Then, after work, as always.
She visits the café again. Alone.
The spot where they used to sit Table 24 is empty.
Just a glass
of water. With ice in it.
Then a faint shimmer of a figure.
Lucian.
He's staring at her.
Longing. Silent. As if trying to say something lost in time.
Then... suddenly, a girl appears.
White hair cascading like moonlight. Crimson eyes glowing softly.
Her name is Silva Valeria.
"You're doing it again."
Her voice is ghostly, echoing.
"What is it about her that keeps you here?"
Lucian says nothing. He just keeps looking.
Then Leyla felt him, so she turned towards their direction.
Towards Lucian. But before the eyes met.
Silva quickly covers his eyes with her pale hand.
"No eye contact. You know the rule.
You're not supposed to connect with the living."
She leans closer.
"Do you want her to suffer the same fate?"
"Tsk"
Lucian's head turns.
Obedient. Broken.
"Remember...," she whispers.
Then the girl fades, swallowed by the light.
Just then, the barista approaches Leyla's table.
But instead of saying they're closed,
he places a dessert in front of her.
"We had an extra. Thought you might want it," he smiles.
Red hair. Short. Emerald green eyes. friendly, familiar.
It's Ronan.
They had a small conversation.
Leyla, curious, glances at Table 24.
"Can I ask you something? That table...
There's always a glass of water left on it.
But I've never seen anyone sitting there."
The barista tilts his head slightly.
"Oh, that guest? Yeah, he's a regular just like you.
But always leaves just before you come in."
He chuckles. "Strange timing, huh?"
Leyla smiles politely...
But something about his answer feels wrong.
Like a truth wrapped in a lie.
She looks at the table again.
And for a split second, the water glass trembles.
Ronan shifts her focus.
"Hey, Leyla, was it?
I'm always seeing you lost in thought here.
If you ever need company... feel free to call me."
He slips the receipt onto her table.
$7.90 – Paid by Ronan (phone number)
He gives her a warm smile and heads to the kitchen.
Leyla frowns. But she wonders. could this be a good thing?
She picks up the receipt. Gets ready to leave.
Then the glass of water on his table,
once full of ice, melted instantly.
It is boiling.
"Huh..." Leyla noticed it.
"I need to get some rest before I start seeing more weird stuff."
Then.
She grabs her bag and leaves.
That night, in her room, she lies on her bed.
Staring at the ceiling. Wondering.
Then she sees it.
A star. One bright star. Familiar...
"Hey... do I know you?"
Then goosebumps. Cold.
A chill runs down her spine.
"Uff... I better close the window."
She pulls it shut. Crawls back into bed.
Drifting to sleep.
The next morning, after work, she returns to the café.
As usual, it's peaceful.
The soft tune just right.
The golden lights glowing warm across the wooden surface.
"Welcome back," Ronan greets her.
Smiles. Warm, welcoming.
"I made a new recipe. Do you want to try it?"
Leyla perks up. "What did you make?"
Ronan looks at her. Admiring her.
Maybe hoping. Or maybe just trying to impress her.
"Please, have a seat first. I'll bring it over."
Excited, she sits down.
Puts down her bag.
But her eyes keep drifting to Table 24.
"Same number as my floor," she murmurs.
Why am I so curious about that table?
Not long after, Ronan returns with his creation.
A small chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream on top,
drizzled with red chocolate flakes, a fresh strawberry crowning it.
Leyla's eyes widen.
"No way you made that!?"
Her mood lifts. Ronan smiles proudly.
"You haven't seen anything yet."
"And just in case, your favorite coffee."
He sets it gently beside her plate.
She cuts the cake with her spoon.
Red strawberry jam pours out.
"Oh my..." she gasps.
"This is brilliant."
She scoops some into her mouth.
The taste, breathtaking. Like a five-star dessert.
Her eyes glisten.
"Honestly, Ronan, this is the best."
But then, Ronan breaks the moment.
"Leyla..."
His voice soft and warm.
Leyla looks up, spoon still in her mouth.
"I've been seeing you since last spring," he continues.
"I've always admired you.
Would you consider going out with me?"
Leyla freezes.
Slowly, she pulls the spoon out.
Then lowers it.
"I—I..."
She can't speak. Shock stilling her breath.
Suddenly... crack!
The glass on Table 24 fractures.
A sharp sound breaks the air.
They both look.
But see nothing.
"W-what... was that?" she asks.
Ronan laughs nervously.
"Probably the water temperature.
Sometimes glasses just crack."
He stands.
"I'll clean it up before it gets messy."
Then he's gone.
Leyla looks down at her dessert.
"Should I give him a chance?"
But her heart feels heavy.
Why...?
Through the reflection in the café's window, Lucian.
Rage burning in his eyes.
But Silva calms him.
"Lucian... she's not yours.
She belongs there.
And you..."
"You're just a soul. Waiting for someone.
Why don't you go and find her—Maria?
Instead of falling for someone else?"
Lucian looks at her.
"Tell me, Silva...
Why do I go searching for someone who never looked back at me?
You know why she left me.
You were there. Watching me die."
Her eyes fill with sorrow.
"At least if you find her, you're finally free," she whispers.
"Maybe freedom isn't what I'm looking for."
He stands. Eyes hollow. Then he walks away.
Her eyes shift toward Leyla,
watching her gather her bag to leave.
"...Lucky girl."
To be continued...