Shadows between US ( Lingorm )

Chapter 1: First Glance in the Rain

The rain came hard that evening, drowning the city in sheets of water and broken light. Puddles gathered along the cracked pavement outside the little café near the university campus, turning the world into blurred reflections of neon signs and car headlights. The windows fogged with warmth against the cold, offering a small island of light and quiet in the restless city night.

Inside, Orm wiped down the counter for the third time that hour, sighing softly to herself. Her shift was almost over, but the clock on the wall seemed frozen in time—mocking her. She pushed stray blonde strands from her face, glancing toward the front door every now and then, half-hoping no more customers would wander in before closing.

It was another long day. A class in the morning, library work in the afternoon, and now the evening shift at the café. All to pay for tuition. All to keep from drowning under student debt. All to keep busy—so her mind didn’t wander into places she didn’t want it to go.

Like the past.

She winced softly as the memory crept in— a hand on her shoulder that night at her old job, his breath hot against her ear, whispering things that made her skin crawl. The storeroom. The fear. The helplessness.

Orm shook it off. No. She was away from that life. That job. That man.

She forced a smile as the bell above the café door jingled.

The figure that stepped inside was tall, drenched in rain, wrapped in a dark coat. Long black hair clung to the stranger’s face, dripping onto the floor. For a heartbeat Orm tensed—her fingers curling tight around the damp cloth she held—but then the stranger pulled back her hood.

A woman.

Beautiful in a way that made Orm’s breath catch. Sharp eyes, cool and distant, scanned the café as if assessing the room for threats rather than deciding where to sit. A single mole rested high on her left cheek, breaking the smooth perfection of her pale skin.

Soldier, Orm thought immediately. Or something close. You could tell. The stiff way she stood. The hard line of her mouth. The way she carried herself—alert, cautious, controlled.

The woman moved silently to the counter.

“Tea,” she said, voice low, steady. “Nothing sweet.”

Orm blinked. The woman’s eyes caught hers—and for a moment, everything else vanished. There was curiosity in that gaze. A flicker of recognition. As if they both saw something familiar, something broken and lonely behind the other’s mask.

And then it was gone.

Orm swallowed. “Any... any particular tea?”

“Black. Strong. No sugar.”

“Right. Coming up.”

Her fingers fumbled with the tea canister, pouring loose leaves into the strainer. She could feel the woman’s eyes on her, cool and watchful. Something about her sent prickles down Orm’s spine. Not fear. Not exactly.

Something else.

Interest.

Orm set the tea before her without another word, trying not to let her hands shake.

The woman took the cup, fingers grazing Orm’s hand—just briefly. But enough.

“I haven’t seen you before,” Orm said before she could stop herself. “New in town?”