Corazón

II.

The soft glow of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden hue across Rio's bedroom as she stirred beneath the covers. Outside, the world was still waking, the last remnants of the rain clinging to the window in tiny droplets that sparkled like jewels in the early sun. Rio stretched lazily, letting out a soft groan as she blinked her eyes open. It was one of those rare British mornings where the sun actually broke through the clouds, and she couldn't help but smile as she caught sight of it.

"Alright, Nacho, time to face the day," she mumbled, rolling over to find her loyal Malinois already awake and sitting patiently by the door. He gave her a quick tail wag as if to say, Took you long enough.

Laughing softly, Rio threw the covers back and padded to her closet. She had a long day ahead of her—errands, a walk, and possibly a trip to the supermarket—but that didn't mean she couldn't have fun with her outfit. After rummaging through her colorful wardrobe, she pulled out a vibrant floral skirt that swished around her ankles, a cropped lavender cardigan with oversized buttons, and a pair of mustard-yellow boots that clashed spectacularly, yet somehow worked with the rest of the ensemble. She added a pastel pink beret to top it all off and stood back, admiring the chaotic combination in the mirror.

"Perfect," she declared, grinning at her reflection. She looked like a rainbow had exploded, but that was exactly how she liked it.

After a quick splash of water to her face and brushing her teeth, Rio made her way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. The apartment smelled faintly of the rain-soaked streets outside, but inside, it was warm and inviting. Nacho followed her, his nails clicking on the wooden floor, tail wagging in anticipation.

"Alright, Mr. Impatient," she said, filling his bowl with kibble before cracking an egg over the top, just the way he liked it. Nacho dove in with gusto, and Rio couldn't help but shake her head.

She made herself something simple—avocado toast with a poached egg and a sprinkling of chili flakes—before grabbing her jacket and calling Nacho to the door for their morning walk. Today, with the sunlight breaking through the clouds, the streets of York seemed brighter, less oppressive than the gloomy rain of yesterday. The cobbled streets glistened from the recent storm, the air fresh with that clean, post-rain scent. Rio breathed it in as she stepped outside, Nacho trotting happily beside her.

As they strolled, they wandered through a small local market set up in the square. The colorful stalls were filled with fresh produce, handmade goods, and the scent of warm bread that wafted through the air. Rio loved these markets—the vibrancy, the chatter of locals, the mix of cultures all coming together in this one tiny space. She meandered through the stalls, her eyes catching on fresh vegetables that glistened under the sunlight.

At one booth, she picked out a few bright red peppers, a couple of zucchini, and a handful of tomatoes, tucking them into her canvas tote bag. Nacho, ever curious, sniffed at everything in sight, his nose twitching as he padded alongside her.

It wasn't long before they came to an olive stall, where an elderly Spanish man with a warm smile waved her over. His eyes crinkled with recognition, and Rio couldn't help but grin as she approached.

"¡Hombre! Buenos días," she greeted him, slipping easily into Spanish, her accent a natural reflection of her heritage. "Qué sorpresa verte aquí."

The man chuckled, his voice rough but filled with warmth. "Buenos días, señorita. ¿Cómo estás?" he asked, offering her a toothy smile as he held out a small bowl of marinated olives.

"Bien, bien," she replied, taking an olive and popping it into her mouth. The briny taste exploded on her tongue, and she hummed in appreciation. "Siempre tienes las mejores aceitunas."