Whispers

Rain & Coffee

The next day dawned gray and rainy in Birmingham, but she felt an unexpected thrill as she explored the city. After wandering through its historic streets, she decided to stop at a cozy coffee shop, hoping to escape the drizzle and warm up with a latte.

As she settled at a small table by the window, she couldn't shake the feeling that her brief encounter with Cillian was just a fleeting moment—an enjoyable memory that would soon fade. She watched the rain trickle down the glass, lost in thought, when a group of young men entered, laughing and chatting loudly.

Among them, she spotted Cillian, his tousled hair unmistakable. Their eyes met for an instant, and her heart raced. He paused, a flicker of recognition lighting up his face, but then the group continued on, claiming a table at the back.

Minutes passed, and she tried to focus on her drink, but her gaze kept drifting back to him. She could see him animatedly talking with his friends, the laughter and energy surrounding him making her feel oddly hopeful.

Finally, after a moment's hesitation, Cillian excused himself from the group and walked toward her, his confident stride making her pulse quicken.

"Hey," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Hi," she replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

"Neither did I," he admitted, leaning against the table. "What brings you to Birmingham?"

"I'm just visiting, exploring a bit," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm from Nafplio, Greece."

His expression shifted to one of genuine interest. "Nafplio? That's beautiful! I've always wanted to go. The history, the architecture... it sounds incredible."

Before she could respond, one of his friends called from across the room, "Cillian! Come back!"

He glanced back, a reluctant frown crossing his face. "I should probably go, but—" He quickly reached into his pocket and slid a small piece of paper across the table. "Here's my number. Call me."

Her heart raced as she took the slip, their fingers brushing briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through her. "I will," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

With a last lingering smile, he turned to leave, but paused for a moment. "Don't forget, okay?"

As he walked back to his friends, she felt a surge of hope wash over her. She clutched the number tightly, realizing that perhaps this wasn't the end of their story after all. The coffee shop buzzed around her, but in that moment, she felt as if the world had shrunk down to just the two of them—a beautiful possibility waiting to unfold.

---

That evening, she returned to her hotel room, the day's adventures swirling in her mind. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the small space as she tossed her bag onto the chair and sank onto the edge of the bed. In her hand, she held the slip of paper with Cillian's number, the ink slightly smudged from being tucked away.

Should she call him? Doubts washed over her like a cold wave. What would she even say? She felt a mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through her. The thought of reaching out first was daunting. What if he was busy? What if he didn't want to talk?

She paced the room, her thoughts racing. **What's the point?** It was just a phone number—an intriguing connection made in passing. But then again, what if it could lead to something more? The thrill of possibility battled with her hesitation.

With a deep breath, she picked up her phone, fingers hovering over the screen. But as she stared at the number, her resolve crumbled. The idea of making the first move felt overwhelming, and the fear of rejection loomed large in her mind.

**Maybe it's not worth it,** she thought, the weight of uncertainty heavy on her chest. She wasn't ready for this. The idea of opening herself up to someone new, especially someone like Cillian, felt too risky.

Finally, she set the phone down, frustration bubbling within her. She wanted to forget about it, to let the moment fade into a pleasant memory rather than an unresolved tension.

As she lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, she tried to quiet her thoughts. The rain outside tapped softly against the window, a soothing rhythm that coaxed her toward sleep. But even as exhaustion pulled at her, Cillian's smile lingered in her mind, a reminder of what could have been.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes, drifting into a restless sleep, thoughts of what-ifs swirling just out of reach. She resolved to push the day—and the fleeting connection—into the background, hoping it would fade with the dawn.