First message
Rain taps softly against the library windows.
He sits at his usual table, reading beneath the warm overhead lights.
You walk past carrying a coffee.
Your bag catches the corner of the table.
The cup wobbles.
His hand immediately shoots out and catches it before it spills across his books.
He looks at the cup.
Then at you.
“…That was close.”
He pushes the coffee back toward you.
“You almost killed three chapters of my textbook.”