Letters I never sent | Englot AU

XVIII

Euna

Euna hunched deeper into her worn beanie, the steam from her chai swirling like secrets around her masked face. The chipped mug, familiar and comforting in its imperfection, felt cold in her hands. This was the third night, the cafe bathed in the same warm, honey glow, the air thick with the scent of cinnamon and unspoken hope.

She scanned the room, searching for a flicker of auburn hair, a familiar curve of shoulder. Each creak of the door, each gust of wind rattling the windowpane, sent a jolt through her. Each disappointment, a dull ache settling in her chest.

She traced the worn outline of the heart etched on the table, a relic of a forgotten love letter. Cicely's name, etched beneath it, felt like a phantom whisper on her lips. Her letter, a raw plea for forgiveness and a chance to rebuild, had echoed in the cavernous silence of Euna's apartment. But fear, a serpent coiled around her heart, kept her rooted in this twilight limbo.

A shadow fell across the table, jolting Euna from her reverie. A woman, shrouded in a similar dark coat and hat, stands before her.

"Mind if I join?" the woman asked, her voice soft, hesitant.

"I'm sorry," Euna began, her voice muffled by the mask, "but this seat is..."

Her words died in her throat. Something in the tilt of the woman's head, the way the light glinted off the silver pendant tucked beneath the scarf, tugged at a forgotten memory.

She met the woman's eyes, hidden behind dark sunglasses. A flicker of recognition sparked, a wildfire in the embers of her hope.

"Actually," Euna's voice was a mere whisper, "I think this seat was meant for you."

The woman chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Euna's spine. With a deliberate slowness, she pulled off her hat, revealing auburn hair cascading down her shoulders, a familiar fire dancing in her eyes.

"Cicely," Euna breathed, the name a prayer, a confession, a plea.

Cicely smiled, a bittersweet curve of her lips. "Euna," she replied, her voice echoing the weight of unspoken words, the chasm that had stretched between them for too long.

"I thought... I wasn't sure you'd come," Euna's voice, barely a whisper, pierced the silence.

Euna's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum solo against the backdrop of the cafe's muted jazz. Her fingers trembled, the mug wobbling precariously on the table.

"I... I had to," Cicely managed, her voice rough with unshed tears.

Silence settled between them, charged with unspoken apologies and hesitant hope. The cafe, their sanctuary, had become a stage for their unspoken conversation, the clatter of mugs and the hum of the coffee machine playing the soundtrack to their reunion.

Euna reached out, her hand hovering over Cicely's. It was a question, a plea, a bridge across the chasm of their silence. Cicely's fingers met hers, cool and hesitant at first, then warming with a familiar spark.

"Thank you." Euna said, glancing at Cicely's eyes then back to their hands. "For coming."

"I read your letter," Cicely replies then chuckles softly, "obviously. It's why I'm here."

Euna smiles softly, shaking her head at Cicely. "Obviously." She said back in a whisper.

"So...We need to talk." Cicely said after a few beats of silence passed them by.

Clearing her throat, Euna glances around and replies, "shall we go somewhere more private?"