The Whisper

There’s a quiet ache in watching her laugh, knowing the words “I care” will stay trapped behind my teeth. We sit across from each other at the café every Tuesday, steam curling from our mugs like secrets. She talks about her sister’s cat, her frustration with rainy commutes, and I memorize the way her 眉 brows furrow when she’s annoyed. Once, her hand brushed mine while reaching for the sugar bowl, and I thought my