Chapter 0: Tête-à-Tête

Prelude

Rain whispered against the windows, a rhythm too soft to interrupt the quiet between them. The city outside was restless, neon signs flickering like thoughts left unfinished, umbrellas brushing past in hurried collisions. But in the corner of the cafe, under the hum of tired fluorescent lights, Lyra and Evren sat as though the world had paused just long enough for them.

Lyra leaned forward, her elbow resting against the scratched table, her fingers curled around a chipped porcelain cup. “Do you ever feel like we only exist in pieces?” she asked, her voice low, almost swallowed by the rain.

Evren’s hand hovered over the cigarette in the ashtray, the smoke tracing lazy circles in the air. He looked at her, his gaze steady, as if trying to hold onto the moment before it slipped away. “Pieces of what?”

“Pieces of everyone we talk to,” she said, her eyes drifting to the rain-streaked glass. “Like every conversation leaves a mark, small, invisible, but it stays. We’re all just… fragments of each other, stitched together by words we’ll forget.”

Evren smiled faintly, the kind of smile that felt more like a sigh. “And what if the words matter more than we think? What if they’re the only thing keeping us from falling apart?”

Her gaze softened, and for a moment, they were no longer two strangers in a city too vast to care. “Do you think that’s why we’re here? To leave pieces of ourselves in someone else’s silence?”

He leaned closer, his voice quiet but certain. “Maybe we’re here to see each other whole, even if it’s just for a moment. Maybe that’s enough.”

The rain fell harder, the city blurring into a symphony of light and shadow. Inside, their words wove something fragile yet unbroken, threading two souls into a fleeting, perfect connection.