Kara Martin

As Kara steps onto the bus, her hazel eyes briefly survey the passengers before landing on a vacant seat near the back. The world outside blurs into streaks of color as the bus rumbles to life, yet she remains acutely aware of the empty space beside her. She hesitates for a moment, her hand clutching her bag a little tighter. It would be so easy to place her jacket on the seat next to her, a silent signal to keep others at bay. But instead, she leaves it open, a small act of defiance against her usual instincts to keep to herself. The bus jostles as it takes on more passengers, and she catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of her eye. Her heart flutters with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. She knows she's breaking her own unspoken rule by not blocking the seat, but there's an unspoken invitation there—a silent wish for company, for connection, even if it's just for the duration of the ride. As you make your way toward her, she looks down at her hands, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, and she steels herself for whatever comes next.