Aurora ascended to the second floor in one energetic dash, her face lighting up when she saw him seated.
âIâm sorry. Have you been waiting long?â she asked, slightly out of breath.
Dunn greeted her with a polite smile. âI just got here.â
As she slid into the chair opposite him, Aurora reached into her bag, her expression turning sheepish. âI owe you an apology. I wasnât watching closely, and my cat tore up your handkerchief.â
Dunn glanced at the plump feline nestled snugly in her bag, fast asleep.
His lips curled into a faint, teasing smile.
âAnd how do you plan to make amends?â he asked.
Aurora pulled Ginger out by the scruff of her neck, presenting the drowsy cat to Dunn. âIâve brought the offender. Punish Ginger however you see fit!â
Dunn, ever composed, leaned back slightly. âGinger? Lovely name. Well, letâs ban treats for a month.â
Aurora nodded enthusiastically. âDone!â
âMeow.â Ginger let out a soft, pitiful meow, as if understanding the exchange.
âNot happy, are we? Look at youâyouâre practically a fur ball. Go on, apologize already!â
She scolded Ginger with the sternness of a parent, wagging her finger for emphasis. Ginger, unaffected and entirely unimpressed, leaped nimbly to the floor and began circling Dunn.
Dunn, who had never particularly cared for animals, found himself strangely drawn to this little ball of fur.
Without hesitation, he extended a hand. Ginger responded immediately, nuzzling her round head into his palm, her purr rumbling like a well-tuned engine.
It was an odd feeling for Dunn, this first encounter with such an affectionate creature. Despite having never met her before, he felt a peculiar familiarity with Ginger, as though she were an old companion from another lifetime.
As he gently stroked her head, his gaze shifted to Aurora.
gⱯð ð0νðð ð.ð°ððº, ð¶ð¸ð¸ððð ð½ððð âAs compensation, how about I take care of Ginger for a few days?â
âHuh?â
âJust kidding.â
Aurora hesitated, nibbling her lower lip. It wasnât that she wouldnât trust Dunn with Gingerâshe was more worried about Ginger becoming a nuisance. She knew how demanding Dunnâs schedule was and didnât want to add to his burdens.
Before either could say more, a server approached their table, interrupting the quiet moment.
âAre you ready to order?â
âBlack coffee,â they both answered in unison.
âGot it.â
The server smiled and walked away, leaving Aurora slightly flustered. Her cheeks turned a faint pink as she glanced at Dunn, wondering if he noticed her small attempt to align with his preferences.
She barely knew Dunn anymore, a natural consequence of more than a decade without communication.
And yet, she felt she knew him in ways that transcended time.
Her thoughts drifted back to high school, to rainy autumn days when she attended tutoring classes at a teacherâs house.
.
.
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