Only by Lee Hi
***
Y/N's POV:
The city lights blurred into streaks of neon rain against the taxi window.
Another Friday night, and another empty apartment awaited me.
I was used to it, of course.
Used to the quiet hum of the refrigerator being the only response to my greetings, used to the echoing footsteps in the hallway, used to the vast expanse of the bed meant for two feeling colder with each passing night.
I scrolled through my phone, the bright screen doing little to combat the encroaching gloom within me. Social media was a constant reminder of the connections I craved.
Images of couples laughing, friends sharing meals, families huddled together – they all seemed to mock my solitude.
It hadn't always been this way.
There were times when my life had been filled with the comforting cacophony of friends and family. But as I’d gotten older, paths diverged, priorities shifted, and I found myself alone.
Stepping out of the taxi, I paid the driver and walked into my building, the familiar scent of old books and faint jasmine welcoming me—a feeble attempt at homeliness.
My apartment, though tastefully decorated, felt sterile, devoid of the warmth that only the presence of a loved one could bring.
That night, sleep evaded me. I tossed and turned, the silence amplifying the longing in my heart.
I yearned for someone to share my life with, someone to chase away the shadows that clung to the edges of my world.
Someone who, like the North Star, would be a constant in my ever-changing sky.
The next morning, I stumbled into the local coffee shop, bleary-eyed and craving caffeine.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the gentle murmur of conversations were a welcome change from the desolate silence of my apartment.
As I waited for my order, my gaze fell upon a girl sitting by the window.
She was engrossed in a book, her brow furrowed in concentration. Sunlight streamed through the windowpane, bathing her in a warm glow.
Her hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall of dark chocolate, and her delicate fingers traced the lines of the book with a tenderness that captivated me.
She was beautiful, but it wasn't just her appearance that drew me in. It was the aura of quiet strength she exuded, a sense of calm that radiated from her very being.
My heart skipped a beat as she looked up, her gaze meeting mine for a fleeting moment.
Her eyes, the color of rich, dark honey, held a spark of intelligence and a hint of mischief that made me want to know her, to unravel the stories hidden within their depths.
Just then, the barista called out my order, breaking the spell that had momentarily ensnared me.
As I turned to collect my coffee, I couldn’t shake off the lingering feeling of having encountered someone extraordinary.
The following days were a blur of work and mundane routines, yet the memory of the girl in the coffee shop lingered in my mind.
Her image would flash before my eyes in the most unexpected moments – while reading a book, listening to music, even in the middle of a meeting.
Her presence, though fleeting, had left an undeniable imprint on my soul.
A week later, I found myself drawn back to the coffee shop, an inexplicable pull urging me towards the very spot where I had seen her.
