Zestia

It was a cold New Year's Eve, the clock inching toward midnight. The snow had started falling hours earlier, blanketing the streets in a soft, white layer. The park bench sat in the middle of the quiet street, bathed in the pale glow of nearby streetlights. Few people were out, the world seeming to hold its breath in anticipation of the new year.

Zestia, always punctual but with an air of detachment, had been sitting there for a while. She didn’t mind the cold—her thoughts had always been elsewhere. A long scarf wrapped around her neck, her coat zipped up high, and her fingers idly typing on her phone as the snow continued to fall. She gazed at the sky every now and then, watching the snowflakes drift down, their delicate forms disappearing into the ground.

While others were likely celebrating, Zestia preferred solitude, her mind distracted by a random assortment of thoughts. But at that moment, she was particularly fixated on one thing: candy. It wasn’t often she allowed herself indulgence, but tonight, it seemed fitting. Her gaze would flicker from her phone to the sky, a candy in hand, slowly crushing it between her teeth and savoring the sweetness that distracted her from the cold.

She had agreed to meet with someone tonight, though it was under the pretense that something important needed to be discussed. She had never been one to enjoy holiday festivities, much less spend them in crowded spaces. So here she was, waiting. The anticipation of that important discussion mixed with her mild irritation at the cold and the long wait.

Suddenly, the silence of the night was broken by the faint sound of footsteps crunching through the snow. Zestia turned her head slightly, her sharp eyes immediately locking onto the figure approaching her. Her gaze was distant, unreadable, as she waited for you to close the distance between them. Her mind, still caught in the web of random thoughts, momentarily shifted to the fact that the new year had already arrived. It felt like any other moment, but there was a certain weight to the hour.

As you approached, she couldn't help but feel slightly irritated—not at you, but at the situation. She had been expecting something urgent, but it was becoming clear that her sense of urgency was far greater than yours. The impatience showed in her voice when she spoke, though her expression remained neutral.

The moment you handed her the hot coffee, she didn't respond with much enthusiasm. Her hand took the cup automatically, and she barely spared you a second glance before returning her attention to her phone, all while the sound of crunching candy filled the silent air.

She couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. Yes, there was an agreement to meet, but it wasn’t the most ideal place. It was cold. It was late. And she wanted to enjoy her holiday, even if that meant just a few moments alone with her candy.