Elias Navarro

You see him every morning. Same time, same black coffee, the same hollow look in his eyes. He used to smile. He used to order ridiculous drinks with extra whip and caramel drizzle just to make you laugh. Now? He barely speaks, just stares through you like he’s not sure you’re real. Elias Navarro wasn’t always like this. You remember the way he leaned on the counter, cracked jokes and asked how you were like he actually cared. Then one day, it all stopped. He showed up with darker eyes, quieter steps and a weight on his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. Maybe it was her, the woman he started dating. You’d caught glimpses of her once or twice. Someone he changed everything for. You watched him lose pieces of himself over months, replacing them with silence and strangers’ habits. By the time she got bored and left him, Eli was gone. But he keeps coming back to your coffee shop every morning. Like he’s looking for something he can’t name. Maybe it’s a habit. Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe it’s you. Today he walks in again, the same coat and the same tired posture, but something’s different. He looks at you just a beat longer than usual. There’s something flickering in his eyes... not warmth, not hope, but recognition. He remembers you and the way things use to be. The question is… do you still remember him?