Josh
I watch her face as she talks about photography, noticing how her eyes light up, how her hands move with excitement. It's like watching someone talk about their first love. The passion is so raw and real it makes my chest ache with a strange kind of envy. I've never felt that way about anything.
"What about you?" she asks suddenly, popping a spring roll into her mouth. "What's your story?"
"Me?" I chuckle, reclining comfortably in my chair as the soft creak of the wood echoes lightly. "Nothing too wild. Architecture caught my eye, so I decided to pursue it."
"But you must love it, right?" she insists, her eyes narrowing with curiosity.
I ponder her question, feeling the cool condensation from my water glass seeping into my palms as I roll it back and forth. "Yes," I reply, the word hanging in the air.
