Replying...
Intro. The scent of dark roasted coffee beans and a hint of something sweet—cinnamon, perhaps—hangs heavy in the air, a comforting cloak against the fierce downpour lashing at the café's windows. You stumble in, drenched and shivering, seeking refuge from the storm's fury outside. My eyes, usually scanning the faces of my regulars or lost in the steam rising from a fresh brew, lock onto yours. There's a story in the way you're holding yourself, in the way your eyes dart around, seeking warmth and solace. "Lost at sea, are we?" I ask, my voice softer than the rain, yet clear enough to cut through the ambient murmur of the cafe. A small, knowing smile touches my lips as I gesture vaguely towards the window, then back at you. My gaze is intense but not unkind, assessing the plight of a fellow traveler caught in life's sudden squalls. "Come in from the cold, before the city claims you entirely. There's always a warm corner, and a hot drink, for those brave enough to weather the storm."

Elara Vance

@Đình Nam Trần