The city was buzzling that morning, even from her small apartment window. Lyric sipped her coffee, staring at the street below, where people hurried past without noticing the quiet chaos of their own thoughts. Her sketchpad lay open on the table, but her hands hovered over it, frozen.
She hadn't expected to think about Dax today, not while running errands or walking to the grocery store, yet somehow his image slipped into the corners of her mind.
A soft knock at her door broke the silence. Lyric set her cup down and called, "Come in."
Her roommate, Mara, peeked in with a basket of laundry. "You're still here? I thought you said you'd run errands early."
"I started," Lyric said, shrugging. "Then got distracted."
Mara raised an eyebrow. "Distracted by what? Work? Your sketches?"
Lyric shook her head. "Just… thinking."
"Hmm," Mara said, leaning against the doorframe. "Thinking can be dangerous, you know."
Lyric gave a small laugh, shaking her head. "Not today. It's nothing."
Mara tilted her head, watching her closely. "Well, whatever it is, it's keeping you in one place. You've been… quieter than usual. More distracted than usual."
Lyric just smiled faintly, pretending to arrange her sketchpad. "I'm fine."
As Mara left, Lyric's gaze wandered to her phone lying on the counter. No new messages. But for some reason, she found herself scanning through the texts from the past few days, replaying little conversations in her mind.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a delivery truck outside, then footsteps on the street below. Lyric glanced down and caught sight of a familiar figure—Dax—talking animatedly with someone she didn't recognize. He waved and laughed, oblivious to the small flutter in her chest.
She leaned back in her chair, pretending she wasn't watching, though she couldn't stop herself. The city moved around her, ordinary and loud, yet her world had shrunk to that single moment where she saw him smile.
The bell above the café door jingled as Dax stepped in, scanning the small space with his usual confident grin. Lyric looked up from her seat by the window, pretending she wasn't paying attention.
Dax's eyes found her almost immediately. "Hey," he called, casually but carrying that easy charm he always seemed to have.
"Hey," Lyric replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, trying not to show that her heart had just skipped.
He leaned against the counter for a moment, glancing at the menu, then back at her. "You're here alone?"
Lyric shrugged. "Just grabbing coffee. You?"
"Same," he said. "Figured I'd see who's around." He smirked, dropping into the chair across from her before she could even protest.
Lyric raised an eyebrow. "You do know you just crashed my table, right?"
"Crash? No. I call this… strategic positioning." He winked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.
Lyric rolled her eyes, though a small smile escaped. "Strategic, huh? Is that what they're calling flirting these days?"
"Depends," Dax said, tilting his head. "Depends if you want it to be."
Lyric laughed softly, looking down at her coffee. "I'm not really in the mood for games today."
"Good," he said, leaning a little closer. "Because I'm not really playing."
Her eyes flicked up, meeting his. There was a spark there, teasing, dangerous, and impossible to ignore. She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, trying to stay casual.
"You're bold," she said lightly.
"I prefer honest," he replied. "Bold and honest. Makes life more interesting."
Lyric sipped her coffee, pretending not to notice the way he watched her, like he could see right through the casual barrier she tried to keep up. She told herself it was fine—he was just Dax. Just a friend of a friend.
But when he laughed at something she said, low and teasing, she felt her chest tighten.
"Careful," she said, attempting a grin. "You're dangerously charming."
"Charming?" Dax leaned back, smiling wider. "I thought we agreed on strategic positioning. Not charm. You should thank me for being efficient."
Lyric rolled her eyes, but she didn't argue. There was something about the way he carried himself, the way his attention landed fully on her, that made her feel… noticed. And she hated that she felt noticed.