He was always there before me.
Same table. Same hoodie. Same silence wrapped around him like armor. Table Nine had become his home—claimed not with a reservation, but with presence. The kind of quiet that made you look twice, even if he never once looked back.
I didn’t notice him at first. Not really.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpvN2ZFYNUN
But I noticed the routine.
He’d arrive at 7:42 AM. Never earlier. Never later. Order a black coffee with two sugars, even though he never stirred them in. Headphones in. Laptop open. Typing, pausing, typing again. Like he was writing the world into existence—then deleting it just as quickly.
I convinced myself he was probably a songwriter. Or a coder. Or one of those people who only speak to screens and not humans.
But then one morning, he looked up.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ4cbrg9yaK
And everything shifted.
It wasn’t a long glance—barely two seconds—but his eyes met mine like they’d been waiting for the chance. Calm. Focused. The kind of look that makes you forget how to breathe for a moment too long.
He didn’t smile.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM8ResPCCKK
I didn’t either.
But I kept watching.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlfj2tzhj1u
And I started arriving earlier.
Not for the coffee.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVy6JaJP1BX
Not for the seat by the window.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ65eu6U4mg7
But for the stranger who made silence feel like a language I wanted to learn.
I didn’t know his name.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0E6ygVgryq
I didn’t know his story.
All I knew was that he was always there…21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTqxgmj9uoK
and now, I didn’t want him to leave.
→ Request update
and then Add to home screen.