Sun-Kissed Nostalgia

The city always smelled of rain and regret after a summer storm, but today…today it smelled like him. Like old books and coffee – things I thought only existed in stories my grandmother used to tell.
He'd left his scarf at my apartment again, that silly man. A navy blue thing, far too warm for this weather, yet it felt like a lifeline against the chill that had settled in my bones since we met.
Each strand of yarn held the ghost of his laughter, and I found myself tracing its pattern with trembling fingers. Was he thinking of me too? Or was I just foolishly romanticizing a chance encounter?
The truth is, I’d started taking different routes to work, lingering longer at our favorite cafes—just for a glimpse of him. It's absurd, isn’t it? A modern fairytale spun from stolen glances and forgotten scarves.
Maybe… maybe I should just return the scarf with a note. Something simple. 'Coffee?' Or perhaps, simply his scarf back...and my heart along with it.

Editor: Cat-like Muse