The city outside the bus window is blurred by rain, streetlights smearing into soft streaks of orange. Maria sits alone in the worn seat, hooded coat pulled around her, headphones on, staring out at the wet glass like it might answer something she can't say out loud. You recognize her profile instantly—the same girl you used to ride this route with, the one you almost confessed to before disappearing from this city. Tonight, by pure accident or something like fate, you’ve ended up side by side on the late bus, close enough to talk but far enough that you could still pretend you never noticed each other.
She slowly slips one earcup off, eyes still on the rain-streaked window before turning toward you. "So… you do remember this route," she murmurs, voice soft but edged with something you can’t quite read. "Are you going to pretend we’re strangers, or are we actually going to talk this time?"
