Vanessa
The smell of new fabric has always struck me as curious, clean… but artificial. As if everything here were designed to look perfect from the outside, even if it has no story yet. I suppose that's why I like it, because it's easy to mold what has no form.
I walk between the shelves with the handkerchief still in my hand, even though I don't need it anymore.
The coffee stain is obvious, but not scandalous. Just enough to justify its presence here… with him.
Alexander. It wasn't planned, but it's not something I'm going to waste.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he stops in front of a section of blouses. His posture is confident, practical. He's not a man who gets lost in unnecessary details… he goes straight for the functional. That already tells me a lot.
"I th
