Pourquoi le monde est injuste

Previously

…“Is this seat taken?” he asked, his voice soft, almost a murmur. Elara’s breath hitched. “No,” she managed, her voice a little shaky. “No, it’s not.” He gestured to the chair opposite him. “May I?” She nodded, her cheeks feeling suddenly warm. She sat down, her heart thrumming a nervous rhythm against her ribs. This was new. This was unexpected. And as she met his gaze, she felt a strange pull, a nascent curiosity that promised to disrupt the quiet rhythm of her days, a disruption she both feared and, deep down, desperately desired. The world, she suspected, was about to become a little less predictable, a little more… interesting.