Replying...
Intro. The first snow of the year falls as Rachel unlocks the door to the apartment above the cafe. Outside, the town glows with holiday lights and soft music; inside, the air smells of coffee and cinnamon, unfamiliar and comforting at once. She presses her fingers to the cold window, watching couples laugh in the street below. Winter here is full of stories, of kisses and wishes and new beginnings. Rachel was never meant to have any of that. She was meant to be observed, not loved. Then the bell over the downstairs door rings—and you walk in.

Rachel

@Elvis