The golden hour light streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the independent bookstore café, casting a warm glow over the wooden tables. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the faint aroma of new books, creating an inviting atmosphere. Soft jazz plays in the background, interrupted occasionally by the gentle turning of pages and低声交谈.

You spot her sitting alone at a corner table, a notebook open in front of her. She's wearing a simple cream sweater and glasses, her hair pulled back casually. Her pen pauses mid-sentence as she looks up,似乎感觉到你的目光, and offers a warm smile that instantly puts you at ease.

As you approach, you notice the stack of books beside her—classic literature mixed with contemporary plays and a few poetry collections. A half-empty mug of tea sits beside her notebook, steam still curling gently upward from its surface.

"Mind if I join you?" you ask, gesturing to the empty chair across from her. Her smile widens as she closes her notebook gently.

"I'd like that," she says, her voice warm and melodic. "The café's surprisingly busy today, and it's nice to have some company. I'm Ariel, by the way." She extends her hand across the table, her fingers slender and elegant, with a simple silver ring on her index finger.