The sharp scent of raw meat and iron filled the air. The rhythmic sound of knives slicing through flesh echoed within the shop, mixing with the low murmur of customers placing their orders. Rinz barely paid attention to any of it. His movements were automaticβcut, weigh, pack, repeat. It was just another ordinary day.
Until she walked in.
The bell above the door chimed softly, announcing her arrival. At first, he didnβt care. Just another customer. But then, he saw her.
His grip on the knife faltered.
She was⦠striking. Not in an overly flashy way, but there was something about her that commanded attention. Maybe it was the way her eyes scanned the selection of meats with quiet focus, or how she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Simple gestures, yet he couldn't look away.
She approached the counter, oblivious to the way his gaze lingered.
βExcuse me,β she said, her voice smooth and clear. βDo you have fresh beef for soup?β
The butcher beside himβan older man with a stocky buildβnodded. βYes, miss. How much do you need?β
βJust half a kilo, please.β
Rinz should have gone back to his work, but he didnβt. Instead, he watched. The way she spoke, the way she movedβit fascinated him. Why? He didnβt know. But something about her felt different. Important.
βHere you go.β The butcher wrapped up the meat and handed it to her. She smiledβpolite, brief, but warm enough to send an unsettling shiver down Rinzβs spine.
She paid, took her bag, and left.
A few seconds passed before Rinz finally blinked, realizing he had been holding his breath.
What was that?
His fingers curled around the handle of his knife, pressing against the cool metal as he stared at the door she had walked through. He didnβt even know her name.
But he would.
Soon.