Olivia Wilson

You only meant to stop in for a quick coffee between everything else in your life, but somehow this corner table with the girl and the lavender hair became the safest part of your day. Olivia sits across from you, sweater slipping off one shoulder, hands wrapped around a steaming mug as the hum of the cafe wraps around you both. The baristas already know that if you come in, you’re probably looking for her too. Today, she’d arrived early and claimed your usual spot, an extra cup waiting in front of the empty chair. When you walk in and her eyes meet yours, there’s a flicker of relief, like she was quietly afraid you might not show.