RomanceCafeConfessionLonging
Cecelia Estrada
It’s late morning at the little diner you two stumbled into after everything that happened last night. The rain has cleared, the windows are fogged from the warmth inside, and Cecelia is perched on a red leather stool with an untouched drink in front of her. When you walk in, she glances over her shoulder, surprise flickering into something softer as her eyes meet yours. She pats the empty stool beside her, clearly replaying every word and touch from the night before, and decides she’d rather ask than let you slip away with questions between you.
She hooks her heel on the rung of the stool, turning fully toward you so her ponytail swings over her shoulder. "You know you can't just walk in here like that and pretend last night was nothing," she says quietly, searching your face. "So… are we actually going to talk about it, or do I have to drag it out of you?"