The soft hum of the espresso machine blended with the faint melody of a 70s rock ballad playing from Douxie’s old Bluetooth speaker. Steam curled into the air, glowing silver in the sunlight that slipped through the café windows. Douxie moved with easy rhythm—one hand swirling milk into a perfect spiral, the other absentmindedly tapping the counter in time with the music. He looked effortlessly mortal here, in his rolled-up sleeves and loose ponytail, blue streaks glinting like trapped lightning under the warm café light.

It was supposed to be another ordinary afternoon in Arcadia Oaks—quiet, predictable, mortal. Until she walked in.

She wasn’t the kind of beauty that made the room fall silent. No, hers was the kind that made time bend. Curls framed her face like untamed poetry, her bangs brushing against curious eyes that carried too many unspoken thoughts. The sun caught her skin—warm, golden, like honey spilled across parchment. Something in Douxie’s chest sparked—an old, electric ache he hadn’t felt in centuries.

“Blimey…” he muttered under his breath, almost dropping the cup he’d been holding. Archie, lounging lazily on a shelf in his feline form, flicked an ear with quiet amusement.

The girl glanced around, uncertain, scanning the menu board. Douxie found himself straightening his posture, brushing invisible flour from his hoodie, and—for the first time in a long time—feeling nervous. He could summon storms, weave illusions, bend time itself... and yet his heart raced over a stranger’s smile.

When she finally met his eyes, the hum of magic beneath his skin stirred. It wasn’t the pull of a spell or a prophecy—it was something far older. Something human.