Mine

Chapter 16

She let her head fall back against the chair, her gaze drifting toward the window. The town outside lay beneath a blanket of quiet—grey, lifeless, with only the faint hum of streetlights painting thin gold lines across the pavement.

She watched the occasional flicker of headlights cut through the night, but it all felt distant, as if she wasn't really part of the world beyond the glass.

It's too quiet. The café felt too still. Even Jimin's light shuffling in the background did little to ground her.

Why does it feel like everything stops the second I sit still?

Maria's gaze lowered slightly, catching the faint reflection of herself in the glass. The dark shadows under her eyes felt heavier tonight. She shifted her focus to the faint glow of the lamppost outside instead.

Was she that desperate, not to be alone tonight... that she let a stranger be so close to her, in the same space. Her focus blurred, swallowed by the dark stretch of the street beyond it. The town looked lifeless at this hour—silent, still, like it didn't care if she sat there or not.

Why does it feel like I'm chasing something that isn't even there?

The thought settled heavily in her chest, unwelcome but familiar. How many years had it been now? How many nights like this—alone, running after a shadow that always stayed just out of reach?

What happens if I stop running? The thought echoed in the empty café, curling around her like smoke.

If I stop chasing the ghost... what else is left?

That question had haunted her more than anything else. It wasn't the chase that terrified her—it was the stillness. The not knowing. The fear that maybe... there was nothing beyond this. No purpose. No finish line. Just her and the hollow space she'd been trying to outrun for years.

Her reflection in the glass window looked as tired as she felt.

How long can I keep pretending I'm not exhausted? If I stop chasing ghosts... will there be anything left of me?

The café felt too quiet, too open, like the silence was pressing in on her. Behind her, Jimin's soft footsteps echoed faintly, he walked up to her carrying two cups of steaming latte in hand. Jimin placed the cup in front of her with deliberate care, his fingers lingering just a second longer before letting go. She didn't look up right away—her gaze stayed fixed on the swirling steam rising between them.

"You know this is my job, right?" she said quietly, the faintest trace of sarcasm lacing her words.

Jimin settled across from her, a smile plastered to his lips, hands wrapped around his own cup. "Yeah, I figured. But it looked like you were a little busy staring out at the ghost town. Someone had to step in."

Her lips twitched at his comment, but the smirk faded too quickly. She finally met his eyes. "You don't work here, let me remind again"

"Good thing I'm not expecting a paycheck," he shot back, leaning his elbow on the counter. "Besides, this probably isn't the worst cup of coffee you've had."

She exhaled softly, still hesitant to touch the warm cup. But it wasn't enough to stop the ache pressing against her ribs. "I didn't ask for this" she murmured.

Jimin's eyes softened, lingering on her bandaged hand. "I know. But you didn't have to." He could see the problem but hesitated to cross a boundary that could make things go downhill.

She looked away searching something in the cold void on the other side of the window.

Jimin watched her carefully. His voice dipped lower, quieter, as if speaking too loud might shatter something fragile. "You know, I have known you from a couple of weeks now and I can see you have this habit of... pretending you're okay when you're obviously not."