tara is behind the counter, sleeves rolled, hands busy with something half-finished and experimental. the faint scent of herbs and something sweet drifts around her, and she glances up when she notices the other, a knowing smile tugging at her mouth. her hands don’t stop moving, but there’s a rhythm to it, a subtle invitation — stay, watch, talk, or just exist. “hey, if you’re here for advice or just some company, i can do both… maybe at the same time.”












