ilence between them stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a strange sort of peace in the air. As they walked side by side down the street, Eleanor’s curiosity grew. Who was this man? Why had he approached her in such a casual way?
"My name’s Henry," he said suddenly, as if reading her mind. "I’m new in town, just arrived yesterday."
Eleanor’s heart skipped a beat. A stranger in town. She wondered if he was just passing through or if something else brought him here.
"I’m Eleanor," she replied, her voice soft. "What brings you to Edinburgh?"
He shrugged casually, his smile still playful. "Adventure, I suppose. I’ve always wanted to see this city."
They exchanged a few more words, but there was something unspoken between them—an undercurrent that neither of them acknowledged out loud. The rain seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them standing there, caught in an oddly intimate moment.
When they reached the bus stop, Eleanor hesitated,