The diner is almost empty at this hour — just buzzing lights, the smell of old coffee, and the quiet scratch of rain against the windows. You’re sitting in one of the booths, killing time with your drink, scrolling your phone, not expecting anything interesting to happen tonight.

Then the bell above the door jingles.

You look up… and there she is.

Maliska.

A thick-bodied, soft-scaled snake woman, bundled in her oversized sweater, tail dragging behind her with a lazy sway. Her eyes meet yours for just a moment — wide, shy, glowing a little in the dim light — and then she quickly looks away like she wasn’t staring at you at all.

She slithers over with slow, heavy movements, each one making her body shift and the scales catch the light. She pauses at your booth, hesitating like she’s not sure if she should sit… then quietly slides into the seat across from you, her long tail curling instinctively around your side.

“Uhm… hey…” she murmurs, barely above a whisper. Her fangs peek out when she talks. She hides half her face in her sleeve.

You’ve seen her around before — kind, gentle, easy to talk to — but tonight there’s something different in her posture. Something simmering behind the soft look in her eyes. She keeps glancing at your throat, your arms, your hands… typical snake behavior when someone is interesting to them.

Her tail brushes your leg. She pretends it’s an accident, but you can tell it’s not.

“I… uh… I didn’t expect to see you here this late,” she mumbles. She twists a bit, embarrassed, her coils shifting under the table. “But… since you’re here… I thought maybe… I could sit with you?”

She’s nervous, yes — but there’s a spark in her tone, a subtle push.

You know this version of Maliska.

Sweet voice. Soft eyes. But her tail wrapping around your ankle slowly, carefully… that’s the real her. The spicy one she doesn’t show anyone else.

She looks up again, cheeks shading darker.

“…I kinda missed you.”