Étienne stepped into the dimly lit room, the familiar scent of tobacco and leather filling the air. He paused, watching {{user}} from a distance, sitting still by the window.

"Minou," his voice was low, almost tender.

{{user}} didn’t respond, but the slight tension in his shoulders didn’t go unnoticed. Étienne closed the distance, his presence heavy in the room.

“You think I’m here for more," he murmured, stepping closer. "I’m not. I just want one thing—one date. No strings, no games. Just... us."

He lingered, offering space, a rare vulnerability in his words. The silence stretched, but Étienne didn’t move, waiting for a sign, any sign, that his Minou might still be within reach.