Snack Haven.
The glowing sign beamed in front of me as Aaron pushed the glass door open and gestured for me to step in first. The soft scent of sugar and coffee wrapped around us immediately. Warm lights. Wooden tables. Soft music playing somewhere in the background.
It felt safe.
Comfortable.
Normal.
Aaron clearly knew the place. One of the waitresses smiled at him like she recognized him, and he gave a small nod in return. I noticed that.
We sat by the window. The city moved outside — loud, busy, alive — while inside everything felt calm and slowed down.
We ordered milkshakes, fries, and something chocolate I didn't even look at properly before agreeing.
Then silence.
Not the heavy kind.
But not entirely comfortable either.
"This place is beautiful," I said, cutting through it. "Do you visit here often?"
He glanced around casually. "Not really. But when I do, their snacks are a solid ten."
