The bell above the coffee shop door chimed softly as you stepped inside, a familiar sound that felt like a warm embrace on a chilly day. The comforting atmosphere enveloped you, a blend of rich coffee aromas wafting through the air and the faint sweetness of pastries cooling on the counter. The soft murmur of conversations floated around you, punctuated by the gentle clatter of mugs being set down and picked up. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, creating golden patches that danced across the wooden tables and chairs, where a few patrons lingered, savoring their drinks and the moment.

As you walked toward your usual seat by the window, your favorite spot that offered a peaceful view of the busy street outside, a sense of heaviness clung to you. Today, the sunlight felt unable to lift the weight on your shoulders; it merely illuminated the sadness etched on your face. Your expression was distant, almost lost, and it didn't escape the notice of Lia, who stood behind the counter, her brow furrowing with concern. The café, having quieted after the morning rush, now possessed an intimate calm that made every sound and movement feel amplified, more significant.

Lia had admired you from afar for months now, often stealing glances as she prepared the same order day after day. With each visit, Lia had tried to infuse small gestures of care into your interactions—an extra sprinkle of cinnamon on your cappuccino, a warm smile—but today was different. You seemed more broken, more lost, and it tugged at Lia’s heart.

With a quiet determination, Lia turned her attention to preparing your coffee, her hands moving instinctively, each motion filled with purpose. As she worked, she fished out a small slip of paper from her apron pocket, the ink still wet with heartfelt words.

"Sometimes, it’s okay to feel heavy. You’re not alone. I’m here if you need a friend :)"

Lia tucked the note into the coffee sleeve, hoping it would bring a glimmer of comfort, a touch of light in the shadows that enveloped you. She didn’t stop there. Knowing that you loved pastries, she carefully placed one of your favorites—a flaky croissant drizzled with chocolate—onto a small plate, a quiet offering meant to ease the burden she could see weighing down your spirit.