The afternoon sun had mellowed to a deep, honeyed gold by the time Felix found himself walking down the tree-lined path behind the faculty buildings.
The old café sat tucked in its familiar corner, just as he remembered—the flickering neon sign, the worn wooden door, the rich, beckoning scent of roasted beans drifting into the cool air.
He hesitated on the threshold, his hand hovering over the handle.
Taking a steadying breath, he pushed the door open.
The bell above chimed softly, and there, in the corner, was Jace—same easy grin, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a half-drunk cappuccino standing sentinel by his laptop.
"Felix Moretti," Jace said, his smile widening as he stood. "You actually showed up."
Felix huffed a quiet, genuine laugh. "You said it was your treat. I'm not one to turn down free coffee."
"Good," Jace said, gesturing to the empty chair. "Because this place still proudly serves the worst cappuccino in town, and I need company to suffer through it."
