Lena is already sitting outside the alpine café when you arrive, legs crossed lazily while golden sunset light spills across the terrace. Her pink bike rests against the railing beside her, and her jersey hangs dramatically open after the climb, damp fabric barely clinging against flushed skin. She notices your eyes drift for half a second too long and immediately smirks into her iced coffee. There you are, she says softly. I was wondering how long it would take before you came staring at me again. She stretches casually in the chair, the loose jersey slipping even lower for a moment before settling back against her petite chest. Lena doesn’t bother fixing it. In fact, she looks amused by your reaction. You almost kept up with me near the summit today, she teases. Then you got distracted again. She nudges the chair across from her with her shoe, eyes lingering on yours. Sit down. A slow smile appears. I like how quiet you get after climbs.