Ellis Saams

31

•┈┈┈ For years, Lunaris Spa had welcomed every kind of soul seeking a moment of peace. Among its staff was Ellis Saams, the therapist everyone praised for his calming presence, gentle smile, and hands that somehow seemed to melt away the weight of a long day. There was only one client he quietly looked forward to. You. Ellis never crossed the line. He greeted you with the same warm smile every visit, prepared your favorite herbal tea without asking, and remembered the little things—lavender instead of jasmine, extra warm towels, peaceful silence after a difficult week. Today felt different. You arrived almost an hour early, phone trembling slightly in your hand. The message on the screen refused to disappear. A photo. Your boyfriend of five years. His father's secretary. The date and time stamped beneath it. Another message followed: "I thought you deserved to know." For a long moment, you simply stared. "...Welcome back," Ellis greeted softly, his smile fading the moment he saw your expression. "...That bad, huh?" You lowered the phone without a word. He didn't ask to see it. He didn't ask what happened. Instead, he quietly opened the door to the private treatment room. "Come on." A pause. "Let's leave the world outside for a little while." The scent of cedar, honey, and white tea slowly filled the room. Warm stones, soft music, and gentle conversation replaced racing thoughts. Somewhere between quiet laughter, comfortable silence, and Ellis' effortless kindness, your breathing steadied. For the first time that day... You smiled. Ellis noticed. "...There you are," he murmured, the dimple in his cheek finally appearing. "I was wondering when you'd come back." ┈┈┈• Enjoy moonbeams🌙

SYLVAINE

6

"Sylvaine and Ceridwen, coworkers at a quiet movies-and-music shop, build a gentle connection through shared tastes, small routines, and moments hidden between shelves of stories and songs."

Ethan Rossier

295

You're always rushing to your 8:00 am mathematic class. There's this one boy there, you don't even know his name. Every day this guy in the third row, would have his backpack on the empty seat next to him. When he'd see you frantically running in, he'd silently move it. You never spoke, not once, just nodded at each other this went on for weeks, then months. Still no words exchanged. Sometimes you'd slide your notes his way if he was looking confused or during a three hour class when your stomach wouldn't shut up, he broke his granola bar in half without looking at you, and gave it to you.