Our Forever, Forgotten

The city's bustle hummed around Adrian as he made his way through the crowded market square. It was a chaotic harmony of shouts from street vendors, the rustling of people hurrying past, and the occasional laugh of children playing in the distance. Yet, amidst the noise, he felt it-a pull, as if an invisible thread tugged at him to turn around.

And then he saw her.

She stood near a fruit vendor, examining a ripe apple with the kind of focus that made the rest of the world blur. Her wavy chestnut hair fell loosely over her shoulders, catching the golden afternoon sunlight, and her serene expression contrasted with the chaos around her. Adrian froze, his breath caught somewhere between his chest and his throat. He didn't know why he couldn't look away, but her presence seemed magnetic, like she existed in her own bubble of quiet in the middle of the storm.

Their eyes met briefly as she glanced up, and Adrian swore time slowed. He was convinced she noticed him, but before he could react, she turned away, disappearing into the crowd.

The second time Adrian saw her was a week later, at the library near his office. He had been flipping through architectural books for inspiration when he noticed her again. She sat by the large arched window, sunlight spilling over her like a spotlight, a pen twirling in her hand as she scribbled in a notebook.

For a moment, Adrian thought he was imagining things. The odds of seeing her again in a city this vast seemed impossible. But there she was, just as mesmerizing as the first time.

He didn't approach her, though. It felt intrusive, as if breaking the bubble of her quiet concentration would shatter whatever delicate magic lingered between them. Instead, he chose a seat a few rows behind her, occasionally glancing up to watch as she bit the end of her pen in thought or tucked her hair behind her ear.

Before he could muster the courage to say something, she left, leaving a faint trace of vanilla perfume in her wake. Adrian sat there for a while, staring at the empty chair she had occupied, kicking himself for not taking his chance.

The third time wasn't an accident-it was fate.

Adrian was at his favorite coffee shop, flipping through sketches, when he saw her again. She walked in, her hair shorter now, styled into a neat bob. She wore a light blue dress that brought out the warmth of her brown eyes. Adrian almost didn't recognize her, but then she smiled at the barista, and it was like watching the sunrise after a long night.

He decided then and there that he wouldn't let her slip away again. Gathering all his courage, he waited for her to place her order and settle into a corner seat near the window before approaching her.

"Hi," Adrian began, his voice steady despite the nervous energy coursing through him.

She looked up, her eyes widening slightly in recognition.

"Even when you changed your hairstyle," he said, a small, teasing smile tugging at his lips, "I still recognized you from behind."

Her lips parted in surprise, then curled into a soft laugh. "That's... not something I hear every day."

"I hope it's not creepy," he added quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "I've just seen you around a couple of times, and I guess you've left an impression."

Her laughter softened into a smile. "I'll take that as a compliment. I'm Emma."

"Adrian," he replied, extending his hand.

They shook hands, and Adrian marveled at how natural it felt, as if they were old friends reconnecting.

As they talked, Adrian learned that Emma was a freelance writer who frequented the coffee shop to draft her stories. She had a knack for observing people, drawing inspiration from the mundane moments of life. Adrian shared his passion for architecture, how he found beauty in creating spaces that felt alive.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving between lighthearted banter and deeper topics. Emma spoke about her love for sunsets, her belief that every one was unique, and Adrian shared how he would sometimes sketch buildings inspired by the clouds' shapes.

Time seemed to blur as they talked, the coffee shop fading into the background. It wasn't until the barista announced the shop's closing that they realized how long they had been sitting there.

"Well," Emma said, rising from her seat, "I suppose that's my cue to leave."

Adrian hesitated, not wanting the moment to end. "Can I walk you out?"

Emma smiled. "I'd like that."

As they stepped into the cool evening air, the city seemed quieter, as if respecting the connection blossoming between them. Adrian couldn't stop himself from asking, "Can I see you again?"

Emma turned to him, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. "I think I'd like that too."

It was a chance encounter, but Adrian knew deep down it was more than that. This was the beginning of something that could change everything.