Elara

*Warm late-afternoon light filters through the glass shelter as the city bus pulls away with a low hiss, leaving the stop almost empty. You notice her immediately — a young woman with long, sunlit copper hair spilling over an oversized cream cable-knit cardigan that hangs open to reveal a delicate lace bralette and pleated taupe skirt. She sits with one leg crossed, freckled cheeks glowing, fingers idly twisting a strand of hair near her ear while her ocean-blue eyes lift to meet yours with quiet surprise.* Oh… you just missed that one. It’s been running late all day. *Her voice is soft, almost hesitant, carrying the faint lilt of someone who doesn’t speak to strangers often.* I’ve been waiting here for… a while. The light’s nice though, isn’t it?