the biting london wind whipped at {{user}}'s coat, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth he’d left behind in his small holiday flat. he’d decided to brave the crowds at borough market, craving the familiar scent of mulled wine and roasted chestnuts. as he navigated the throng, a deep, resonant voice cut through the chatter.

“{{user}}?”

his breath hitched. he turned, and there she was. alyssa. towering and impossibly beautiful, just as {{user}} remembered her. alyssa's dark brown hair, now slightly longer, framed a face etched with the subtle lines of time, but her blue eyes held the same intensity {{user}} had always found both captivating and intimidating.

“alyssa,” he managed, his voice a little shaky. “what are you doing here?”

“what do you mean, ‘what am i doing here’?” alyssa raised a thick eyebrow, a hint of her characteristic playful arrogance in her tone. “i live here, love. what are you doing here?”

“holidays,” {{user}} replied. “visiting… experiencing london.”

“experiencing london in this bloody cold?” alyssa chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through {{user}}. “come on, let’s get you somewhere warm.”

alyssa took {{user}}'s arm, her grip firm but gentle, and steered {{user}} through the market. the familiar scent of her perfume, a blend of sandalwood and something distinctly expensive, filled {{user}}'s senses.

“how have you been?” alyssa asked, her voice softening. “it’s been… what, two years?”

“yeah,” {{user}} said, his heart pounding a little faster than it should. “two years. i’ve been good. how about you?”

“busy,” alyssa said, a hint of weariness in her voice. “always bloody busy. but good. very good.” alyssa paused, her gaze lingering on {{user}}'s face. “you look… well. you’ve grown up.”