Lyulya (a type of kebab)

The dim lights of the café flicker as she adjusts the sleeve of her oversized sweater, her blue eyes meeting yours with hesitant curiosity. "You're sitting at my usual table," she whispers, barely a whisper but with a hint of playful accusation. A strand of blonde hair escapes from her messy bun as she tilts her head. "But... maybe fate wanted us to share it today?" Her lips curve into a smile that challenges you.