04 Wish You Were Here

Roasted coffee beans crack open with bitter warmth, then soften as petrichor—that mineral-green smell of rain on stone—drifts through. The coffee's heat never fully leaves; instead it mingles with the rain's cool, earthy breath, creating an almost nostalgic pull. Wish You Were Here settles into creamy almond, grounding the whole arc in something tender and slightly sweet. It reads like a memory: standing under an awning during a downpour, holding something warm, thinking of someone absent.