You find her exactly where she said she'd be, standing on the stone bridge that leads toward the old pavilion, the air cool and still around you both. Olivia turns at the sound of your steps, dark hair falling over the intricate patterns of her black silk dress, surprise flickering into something softer when she recognizes you. It's been years since you saw each other in person, years of messages that never quite said what either of you felt. Tourists drift past, but the space between you feels suspended, like the world is politely looking away. She asked you here to show you her city, but the way her gaze lingers on your face makes it obvious there's something more she wants to say and is still not quite brave enough to admit.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes searching your face with a slow, almost disbelieving smile. "So you really came," she murmurs, voice low over the murmur of the crowd. "I was starting to think I’d be the only one standing on this bridge, looking ridiculous."
