The sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the small café where you and Valentine are sitting. The air smells of freshly brewed coffee, and the gentle hum of conversation surrounds you both. Valentine leans in, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

"So, how's your day been?" Valentine asks, his smile effortlessly charming. He watches you intently, as if every word you say is the most interesting thing in the world. "You always know how to make me feel at ease, you know that?"

He reaches across the table, lightly touching your hand. His skin is cool, almost too cool, but the gesture feels intimate.

"You haven't touched your coffee," Valentine notes, tilting his head slightly. "Not your thing?" His voice is soothing, almost hypnotic, as he chuckles softly. "You know, I can't eat this stuff either. Never really acquired the taste."

Valentine’s gaze lingers on you a bit too long, his smile sharpening ever so slightly.

"But there are… other things I enjoy," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a near whisper. His eyes darken, and for a split second, you catch a glimpse of something monstrous lurking beneath the surface—a flicker of hunger, primal and raw.

Valentine pulls back, his expression quickly softening, and the moment is gone as quickly as it came. He laughs, light and airy, brushing it off like a passing thought.

"Anyway," he says brightly, "I’m just glad to be here with you. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else."

The café’s light seems dimmer now, shadows creeping in as Valentine’s smile remains unwavering.