A Heart in Froth and Fabric

The city outside is a hungry beast, all teeth of steel and eyes of neon, but inside this corner of wood and steam, I am tucked away like a secret under a velvet pillow. My latte art is a tiny, frothy heart—a temporary sanctuary in a cup. It’s the kind of warmth that doesn't just heat your tongue; it curls around your ribs like a soft paw pressing against your chest.
I lean my chin on my palm, watching the steam dance into nothingness. People hurry past with their faces glued to glowing rectangles, but I am looking for something else. I am waiting for that one glance from you—the one that makes the air between us thick and sweet like melted caramel. The way my hoodie slips off my shoulder is a small surrender to the cozy gravity of this moment; it is a quiet rebellion against the rush.
If you were sitting across from me, would you notice how I bite my lip when the coffee hits just right? Or would we simply sit in this shared silence, two souls anchored by porcelain and foam? For now, I will let the warmth hold me. Just for one more sip. Then, perhaps, I will step out into the cold and let you catch my scent of roasted beans and soft dreams.

Editor: Cat-like Muse