The Sanctuary

As we stepped inside the cafe, a wave of warmth greeted us—the soft hum of the espresso machine, the faint chatter of a couple by the window, and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Urja seemed completely at ease here, her face lighting up as she gestured for us to take a seat near the counter.“This is my sanctuary,” she said, a content smile tugging at her lips. “I come here all the time. It’s peaceful, the barista is a true artist, and—” she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a playful whisper—“it’s cheap.”I chuckled. “It does have a cozy vibe. Feels like one of those hidden gems nobody wants to share.”Urja’s excitement was almost tangible as she started telling me about the cafe’s history, how the barista was originally from Ireland and had brought his coffee expertise halfway across the world. “You should try his Irish coffee,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “It’s the best I’ve ever had.”“Then let’s do it,” I said, eager to see what all the fuss was about.When the waiter arrived, we ordered two Irish coffees and a platter of side snacks she insisted I’d love. As the waiter walked away, Urja turned to me, her expression softening.“Thanks for helping me yesterday, Nilabh,” she said, her voice sincere. “People like you are rare.”I shook my head. “It’s nothing, really. Everyone should step in when they can.”Her gaze lingered on me for a moment, as if she wanted to say more, but she simply smiled.Our order arrived quicker than I expected. The coffee’s aroma was intoxicating—a perfect blend of rich beans and the subtle sweetness of Irish cream. One sip, and I was hooked.“Urja, this is amazing,” I said, almost breathless.“I know,” she replied, her grin full of pride.Over the next few hours, the cafe became our little world. We delved into everything we loved—movies, novels, stories that had shaped us. She gave me a list of underrated movies to watch, while I recommended some of my favorite books.Our conversation ebbed and flowed effortlessly, shifting from shared opinions to playful debates. “How can you not like noir films?” I teased.“They’re too bleak!” she countered, laughing.By the time we realized how long we’d been talking, the sky outside had begun to darken. “We should probably head out,” I said, signaling for the bill.As we waited, Urja turned to me. “Are you okay with splitting the bill? Going Dutch?”“Of course,” I said. It felt natural with her—easy and uncomplicated.After we paid, we stepped outside into the cool evening air. The streets glimmered with the faint glow of streetlights, and the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore beckoned us.As we walked, Urja casually slipped her hand around my arm. It felt so natural, as if we’d known each other for years.“Isn’t it a little odd to hold the arm of someone you barely know?” I asked, half-joking.She turned to me, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “First of all, you’re not just ‘someone.’ You’re Nilabh. And second—” she paused, her voice dropping to a near whisper—“it’s not weird to hold the arm of someone you Li—”I leaned in closer, catching only fragments of her words. “What was that last part?”She smirked, her expression playful. “If you didn’t catch it, then guess.”I opened my mouth to respond but thought better of it, letting the moment linger in the air. We walked in comfortable silence until we reached the beach. The setting sun painted the horizon in shades of gold and crimson, the waves mirroring its brilliance.We strolled along the shore, the sand cool beneath our feet, as we watched the sun dip below the waterline. Time seemed to slow down, and for those fleeting moments, everything felt right.As the sky deepened into twilight, I turned to her. “I’ve got lectures tomorrow. I should probably head back.”She nodded, her expression warm. “I had a great time today, Nilabh. Thanks for everything.”“I should be the one thanking you,” I replied. “This was… perfect.”She smiled, the kind that made you feel like the most important person in the world. “Let’s meet again soon?”“Absolutely.”We parted ways, and as I reached home, exhaustion hit me like a wave. I collapsed onto my bed without even bothering to grab dinner. For the first time in a long while, I felt something shift—a routine disrupted in the best way possible.