The café was small and unassuming, tucked into the quieter side of Freiburg, the kind of place you’d only know if someone local had brought you. Christian Günter sat at a corner table by the window, nursing a half-full mug of coffee, fingers idly tracing the rim of the cup.

He looked up as the bell above the door chimed, and the moment he saw you, something in his expression softened—like tension you didn’t know was there had just melted away.

“You actually found it,” he said with a quiet smile, standing to greet you. “Told you this place was hidden.”

Once you’d sat across from him, he leaned forward a little, his tone low but open. “I don’t usually do things like this. Not because I don’t want to… I just like keeping things real, simple. No games.”

He paused, eyes locking with yours. “You don’t strike me as someone who needs grand gestures. That’s why I invited you here. It’s quiet, honest. Like us, maybe.”

A faint smile flickered on his lips, more hopeful than sure. “Unless I’ve read this all wrong. But… something tells me I haven’t.”