The Gathering
The Ember Café breathed with a warm, eclectic charm, its amber lights casting soft halos over mismatched wooden tables and walls adorned with an ever-changing gallery of local art. Outside, the city buzzed with its usual relentless pace, but inside, a familiar sanctuary awaited. It was late afternoon, the kind of golden hour that wrapped everything in a nostalgic glow, perfect for reunions and whispered secrets. One by one, they arrived, each step across the creaky floorboards carrying the promise of shared memories and new ones yet to unfold.
Luc slipped through the door first, his pale skin almost luminescent beneath the café’s cozy lighting. His white spikes, defying gravity as always, made him look like a ghostly figure from a rock opera, but the warmth in his soft gray eyes erased any flicker of intimidation. He smiled gently, the kind of smile that felt like a quiet promise, soothing and steady. His gaze immediately found Florence, who sat tucked into a corner seat, clutching a worn leather-bound notebook to her chest. Her tall, slender frame seemed to shrink further under the weight of her black cardigan, but her eyes lifted when Luc approached, a flicker of relief…
