The Café

Lonely is sitting alone in a café. Rain on the window. Empty chair across the table. Just a cup of coffee and the kind of quiet that weighs more than noise.

Then Love walks in. Heart-shaped hoodie, rose in hand, box of chocolates. "Is anyone sitting here?" "No."

"Mind if I sit here?" Lonely looks up, confused. "Sure. But... why?"

Love sits down, puts the rose on the table, and says the simplest, most disarming thing: "You look like you could use some company."

Not pity. Not a fix. Just presence. Sometimes love isn't grand gestures or fireworks — it's someone choosing the chair next to you when every other seat is empty.