A sip of peppermint tea, and another scrape with a ballpoint pen.
The sharp squee of the sliding doors.
Echoes of footsteps on the wooden floor, pattering to the steady rhythm of Earth, Wind and Fire.

“…after the love has gone~”

Another scrape of pen to paper.
Across, the steady typing on a black keyboard.

An accidental upward glance, eyes met.
Confusion. Then, a smile.
Back again, pen to paper, resuming from the interruption.

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