The bell above the door chimed softly as y/n stepped into Ursula’s Fish & Chips, the scent of salt and oil wrapping around her like a fog. She hadn’t come for anyone—just wandering, searching for something to fill the quiet ache of boredom. The low murmur of voices, the clatter of plates, the faint hiss of the fryer—all of it faded the moment she crossed the threshold.