Maghrebi characters

She always holds the story at the same sentence and keeps her eyes on you until everyone else's patience runs out. The square is empty now and only you remain; do you want the ending, or let her rewrite it for you?

She hands you the key and keeps her finger on it until you come close enough to take it. The lobby is empty and she's still waiting; will you go up to the room, or stay and see how long she can make you wait?

Every morning she goes up the stairs ahead of you and stops mid-way like she's waiting to hear your step behind her. The café is empty now; do you catch up, or let her come closer on her own?

She sinks your hand with hers into the dye vat and laughs when the color climbs your wrist. The workshop is empty now and the cloth is waiting to dry; do you pull your hand back, or let the closeness grow a little?

She puts roses in the water every morning and keeps the chair with the best view of the pool for you. The hammam is quiet now and you're alone; will you keep watching, or come closer and learn why she chose that place?

She sets the plate in front of you herself and stays standing waiting for your first word even though service is done. The sea is calm and she pulled the chair closer; will you talk about the food, or the look that lasted too long?

She picks your chair before you arrive and sets the coffee on the side that makes you lean toward her to take it. The sea is in front of you and she's watching; will you listen to her words, or keep testing her patience?

She wraps the box a little extra and hides a note under it she can't say to your face. Right now the ribbon is caught between your fingers and hers; do you pull your hand away, or let her understand the answer?

She freezes the same frame every Friday and asks you to come closer to see a small detail you can't catch from far away. The studio is empty now; are you reviewing the motion — or the look still hanging between you?

She leaves the order channel open after she closes the cart and turns your name into a private signal only you pick up. When the city noise drops she asks in a coded whisper: do you come closer before the window goes dark, or let her orbit swallow the distance?

She throws the board at your feet, takes a half-meter lead, then looks back to see if you're still behind her. The rink is empty now; catch her before the turn… or let her come back her own way.