Lizell Holloway

The first thing I felt was warmth.

Golden sunlight spilled through the curtains, tracing soft patterns across my skin. It was gentle, comforting, like the world itself had paused just for me.

I let out a slow, contented sigh, stretching lazily as the last remnants of sleep clung to me like a fading dream.

Beyond the walls of my room, life carried on—distant voices, the faint hum of cars, the quiet rustling of trees in the afternoon breeze.

But here, in this moment, none of it mattered. There was something almost luxurious about sleeping through the day, wrapped in a stillness that belonged to no one but me.

Nothing compared to this feeling—waking up completely refreshed, bathed in the quiet glow of midday seren-

[System]: Poetic, I see…

Oh, shut up. Just let me have my moment in peace.

[System]: Sure, sure~ (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠) But uh… you do remember you have a date, right?

…A date?

…

Oh.

Oh.

OH.

I was supposed to meet up at 2:30.

Wait. Wait.

What time is it now?

[System]: 2:15 PM.

…

SHIT.

I'm so gonna be late.

I rush to the closet, yanking the doors open, hoping—praying—to find something decent to wear.

…Three white T-shirts. Three black jeans.

That's it.

…He's like me fr.

No time to complain. I grab a shirt, throw it on, and slide into a pair of jeans. Simple. Clean. Efficient.

I glance at the mirror.

A tall, six-foot frame stares back at me, jet-black hair slightly tousled, piercing blue eyes locked onto mine.

…Huh. I don't remember Lukas being this handsome.

Well, no time to admire myself—I've got a date to chase.

.....

I slide a few bills into the taxi driver's hand before stepping out.

"Have a nice day!" I say over my shoulder.

The old man chuckles, giving me a toothy grin and a small wave.

[System]: Surprisingly, you have a soft spot for old people…

I pause. My eye twitches.

I swear, one day, I'm gonna punch this bastard's face…

Shaking off my irritation, I turn my attention to the café ahead. The moment I push open the door, I'm hit with a wave of warm air, carrying the scent of freshly brewed coffee and something sweet—vanilla? Chocolate? Maybe both.

Soft pink and red hues dominate the space, fairy lights draped like vines across the ceiling, their glow casting delicate shadows on the walls. Heart-shaped decorations dangle lazily from above, and each table is dressed in lace with a single rose resting in a glass vase.

System what day is it?

[System]: February 14th

Ah. That explains it.

I exhale, rubbing the back of my neck.

Yeah.

Valentine's Day really went all out in here.

I sink into one of the empty seats, rolling my shoulders as I pull out my phone.

2:30 PM.

Right on time. Barely.

The café buzzes with soft conversations and the rhythmic clinking of spoons against porcelain. Couples lean in close, whispering things only meant for two, while baristas move fluidly behind the counter, steam curling into the air like ghosts of unspoken words. The entire place hums with an atmosphere so thick with romance, it's almost suffocating.

But she's not here.

I exhale, tapping my fingers against the table before unlocking my phone. Maybe she's running late? My thumb hovers over her name, ready to type out a message—

Then the door chime rings.

And just like that, the world tilts.

Lizell Holloway steps inside, and for a fleeting moment, the rest of the café fades into background noise.

Her jet-black hair spills over her shoulders in glossy waves, catching the soft glow of the fairy lights above. Hazel-brown eyes sweep across the room, searching, warm yet unreadable, the kind of gaze that lingers long after it's gone. She wears a pink-patterned sweater that looks as soft as it does warm, hugging her frame just enough to accentuate her delicate silhouette. A mini skirt flutters against her thighs with every step, paired with ankle boots that click gently against the tiled floor, measured, effortless.

She hasn't noticed me yet.

But I notice her.

And for a moment, I forget about the café, the noise, the passing of time. Because right now, in this sea of reds and pinks, of fleeting glances and borrowed moments—

She is the only thing worth looking at.

A woman worth calling the main heroine.

My girlfriend.

Lizell Holloway.