บท 241: Waltzing Through Paris

Elara stood by the entrance of a quaint Parisian café, adjusting her scarf as the chilly evening air nipped at her cheeks. Amara emerged behind her, juggling several shopping bags with the finesse of someone who refused to let anything inconvenience them least of all gravity.

"Careful, your bags are wobbling," Elara teased, leaning against the ornate railing.

"I have the coordination of a trained ballerina," Amara replied, nudging the café door open with her hip. "And the patience of someone who will absolutely trip you if you keep doubting me."

Inside, the café was bathed in warm, golden light, the smell of freshly baked croissants mingling with the subtle tang of espresso. A single violinist in the corner played softly, setting a scene so picturesque it could've been stolen from a romance novel.

Elara sighed, half in contentment and half in disbelief. "Do you always plan everything down to the violin?"