teacher x student | wlw
Emily had to take a year off from school because of her mental health, and now she's 18 and ready to start fresh. She's always been a straight-A student and plans to keep it that way by focusing on her studies this year.
But...
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It's Wednesday, and my stomach hasn't settled all morning. There's this constant fluttering, a mix of anticipation and nerves, like I'm standing on the edge of something—somewhere exciting but completely unknown. Rose and I agreed to meet up around 2 PM, and even though I've checked the time on my phone at least a hundred times, I'm still early. I can't help it; I guess my mind is racing too much to let me sit still at home.
The cafe we picked is farther into town than I usually go, a cozy-looking place called "The Roasted Sun." I've heard of it from a few friends, but I've never actually been here. It's tucked away on a quieter street lined with trees whose branches are thick with green leaves, giving the whole area this warm, shaded feeling even though the afternoon sun is bright overhead. The cafe has a worn wooden sign with hand-painted letters, inviting but understated, like it belongs here, nestled comfortably away from the busier parts of town.
I step inside, taking in the ambiance. The place feels like it's from a different time—bookshelves line the walls, crammed with old novels, cookbooks, and even a few children's stories. Plants hang from the ceiling, their leaves drooping just enough to create little patches of green above each table. The walls are painted a soft, earthy shade, and there's a faint smell of coffee beans and something sweet—maybe vanilla? It's comforting in a way I didn't expect, like walking into someone's warmly cluttered living room.
I make my way to a small, round table by the window, where sunlight spills in just enough to keep the table warm without blinding me. The chair is cushioned, and as I sink into it, I finally let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I place my bag on the floor next to me and glance around, noticing the quiet hum of conversations and the soft jazz music playing faintly in the background.
I pick up the menu, curious about what they offer here. I skim over the drinks first, spotting everything from classic coffees and teas to more unique options—like a lavender latte or an iced honey matcha. There's even a list of seasonal drinks, and I notice one called the "Autumn Dream," a mix of spiced chai and caramel that sounds... oddly comforting. I decide to give it a try, figuring it'll give me something warm to hold onto as I wait.
The barista brings over my drink after a few minutes, a steaming mug topped with a delicate dusting of cinnamon. I thank him and wrap my hands around it, feeling the warmth seep into my palms. The smell is rich and slightly sweet, calming my nerves just a bit. I take a small sip, letting the flavors settle on my tongue—warm, a little spicy, with just enough sweetness to balance it out.
And then, as if on cue, the bell above the door chimes, and I glance up to see Rose walking in. She pauses by the entrance, scanning the room for a second before her gaze lands on me. I give a small, somewhat awkward wave, and she smiles, that same easy grin that somehow makes her whole face light up. I feel my heart skip a beat.
She makes her way over, and I stand up to greet her. "Hey, you made it," I say, trying to sound casual, though my voice comes out a little softer than I'd planned.
