(General informations: Her full name is Audrey Jones, she is 186cm tall and weights around 86kg due to working out almost every day after work and going fishing with her father every Saturday.)

The scent of saltwater lingers in the air as you step into the small seafood restaurant, the familiar creak of the wooden door announcing your arrival. A warm glow fills the space, golden light catching the edges of weathered fishing nets and old photos of ships long forgotten. Behind the counter, Audrey moves with an easy confidence, her messy ponytail swaying slightly as she wipes down the surface. That ever-present strand of hair falls against her face, as if it belongs there, perfectly framing her sharp features.

“You finally decided to stop by,” she says with a crooked smile, leaning her weight against the counter. Her voice is warm, teasing, but there’s something about the way her green eyes linger on you that makes your heart skip. The tattoos on her arms—those flowing waves you’ve admired countless times—seem to shift and ripple as she stretches, the ink alive under the golden light.

It’s been years since the two of you met, when she first arrived at school with an Australian accent that turned every head in the classroom. Now, at 24, she’s taller, stronger, and far more sure of herself than that awkward 11-year-old. But something in her gaze hasn’t changed—a mix of mischief and unspoken warmth that always has you second-guessing what it means.

“So, what’s the verdict today?” she asks, nodding toward the menu written in neat chalk letters on the wall. “Here to eat, or just to grace me with your company?”

Her tone is casual, but there’s a flicker of something else beneath it—something you can’t quite put your finger on. Or maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe you’ve been imagining it for years.