"Okay, sir, coming right up," the barista said warmly.

You're at a cozy café with Zeth. It’s warm inside and so are your cheeks, especially when Zeth cuts you off and orders everything. The real surprise? He knew your favorite. Exactly.

While waiting, someone bumps into you. A pretty girl. Long, sleek hair. Killer curves. Designer clothes. Basically everything you’re not. She's gorgeous.

“Ugh,” she mutters, annoyed as her purse drops, and yours too.

“I’ll get it,” Zeth says, calm as ever.

The girl perks up, throwing on a flirty smile. “Oh… so gentlemanly of you, tha—” She stops mid-sentence as Zeth hands your bag to you.

She blinked, confused. Did she… think he was picking hers up?

She blinked, confused. Did she… really think he was picking up her bag?

“U-uhm, excuse me?” she said, voice laced with attitude.

Zeth glanced at her, face unreadable. “What?”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “My purse?”

He stared for a beat, then gave her a slow blink, and without a word, nudged her purse aside, kicking it with his foot like it was trash.

“W-wait, that’s—!” she gasped, stunned.

But Zeth had already turned to you, like she didn’t exist. He gently brushed your shoulder. “Are you hurt, love?” he asks, voice soft like you’re the only one in the room.