A Season That Stays
Chapter 1 - A Glimpse Of Summer
The city buzzed with its usual symphony of car horns, hurried footsteps, and distant chatter. Luis had never really been fond of the noise, but tonight, as he sat in the dim glow of the cafĂŠâs corner seat, it felt like a lullabyâa song he could get lost in while his mind wandered.
His fingers idly traced the rim of his coffee cup, the warmth slowly fading just as his patience did. He wasnât waiting for anyone in particular. Or at least, thatâs what he told himself. But deep down, he knew that since the first time he saw her, he had started waiting for somethingâsomething he couldnât name, but something he desperately wanted to last.
Then, she walked in.
Summer.
Not the season, but the girl who seemed to carry its warmth even on the coldest days. The girl who made time feel slower and the world feel less heavy. She walked with purpose, her criminology books tucked under her arm, her dark hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. Luis had always been fascinated by her, not just by her looks, but by the way she carried herselfâas if she was ready to take on anything, anyone.
She didnât notice him at first, too focused on ordering her usual drink. But Luis? He noticed everything. How her lips moved slightly as she read the menu even though she always got the same thing. How she tapped her fingers on the counter absentmindedly, the rhythm matching the song playing softly in the background.
He had first met her by accidentâa group project in a shared elective class. She had barely spoken to him then, only nodding in acknowledgment when necessary. But there was something about the way she held herself, the way she analyzed things and people, that intrigued him.
Now, months later, he still couldnât quite figure her out.
When she turned and spotted him, something flickered in her eyes. Recognition? Amusement? He wasnât sure. But she offered a small smile before making her way toward him.
âLuis,â she said, setting her books down on the table. âDidnât take you for a late-night cafĂŠ kind of guy.â
He smirked, lifting his cup slightly. âI could say the same about you.â
She sat across from him, her gaze steady. âLong day. Thought Iâd unwind before heading back.â
Luis nodded, unsure of what to say next. He wanted to ask her about her day, about her classes, about the way she always seemed so in control. But instead, he found himself saying, âYou ever feel like some moments arenât just moments?â
Summer raised an eyebrow. âThatâs⌠oddly philosophical of you.â
âHumor me,â he said, his voice softer now. âLike, you meet someone or experience something, and it doesnât just pass by. It stays. Like it was meant to happen.â
She studied him for a long second before leaning back. âI think we convince ourselves of that because itâs comforting. We want to believe things happen for a reason.â
âAnd you donât?â
Summer hesitated. âI think⌠I believe in seasons. People come and go like theyâre meant to. And sometimes, it doesnât matter how much you want them to stay.â
Luis looked at her then, really looked at her. And for the first time, he realized something.
She wasnât just Summer because of her name. She was Summer because she burned bright, because she was warm but untouchable, because she carried storms in her heart that she didnât let anyone see.
And maybe, just maybe, she was also a season that he was already afraid of losing.









