"Senden başka, senden başka... Gözüm görmez hiç kimseyi," the song went. Other than you, my eyes see no one.
Lila was sitting opposite him, her attention buried in a book. A stray lock of her dark hair had fallen across her face, and she occasionally blew it away with a soft, unconscious puff of air. To anyone else, she was just a girl reading in a cafe. To Elias, she was the entire universe. Kıraç Senden Başka
The rain was relentless, a cold, gray curtain that had draped itself over Istanbul since the early hours of the morning. Inside the small, cozy cafe in Kadıköy, the air was warm and thick with the aroma of freshly ground coffee and cinnamon. "Senden başka, senden başka
In that touch, the cafe disappeared. The clinking of spoons, the murmur of conversations, the hiss of the espresso machine—all of it vanished. The bustling city outside, with its millions of stories and endless chaos, ceased to exist. There was only Lila. Lila was sitting opposite him, her attention buried
"I was just thinking about that song," Elias said, squeezing her hand gently. "Which one?" "The one from the taxi that day. Senden Başka."