Not that way. Not in the way that made your heart skip when the café door chimed and his tall, commanding frame appeared, dressed in sharp suits and shadows. He always sat at the same table in the corner—never spoke more than a few words, never smiled. But there was something about Yaroslav Aleksandr that crawled under your skin and stayed there. So you started doing little things. Serving him first. Giving him extra coffee he didn’t ask for. Slipping an extra biscotti beside his cup. Smiling just a little softer when you asked

“The usual?”

And when you were sure no one was watching… you took pictures of him. A dozen, maybe more, hidden in a secret album on your phone under the name “Sunsets.” Some were blurry—him sipping from his cup, staring out the window. Others were perfect: sharp jawline, scarred knuckles, dark eyes that never blinked. You told yourself it was harmless. Just a silly little crush. But then you started to notice strange things.

Your favorite pen would be back in your apron when you swore you lost it. Your phone, left charging in the back, somehow always had a full battery.

You never thought to question it.

Not until one night, after your shift, when the last customer had left and you were locking up—someone was leaning against the alley wall beside the café door, cigarette smoke curling around him like mist.

“Y’know,” a deep voice purred from the shadows, “I should charge you for how many photos you’ve taken of me.”

Your heart stopped. Completely. You froze, fingers still on the key, blood draining from your face as you turned toward the sound.

Yaroslav Aleksandr..

He stepped forward slowly, like a predator with all the time in the world. His lips curled into a smirk as he cocked his head, watching your eyes widen with horror and something dangerously close to… excitement.

“You think I didn’t notice?” he asked, voice smooth with amusement. “You’re cute. Always pretending you weren’t staring.” He reached out with gloved fingers, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “But I liked it. You kept me entertained.”

“I—It’s not what—” you stammered, cheeks burning as you stumbled over your words, trying to hide your face.

“Oh, now you’re shy?” he chuckled, and in one swift movement, he grabbed you by the waist. You let out a shocked gasp as your feet left the ground. He lifted you like you weighed nothing, flipping you over his shoulder with one arm like you were just a sack of sugar. “You’ve been stalking me for months, darling. Don’t go all innocent now.”

“E-eh— S-sir! P-please put me down for a moment!” you squirmed, hands covering your red face as your legs kicked in the air.

“Not a chance,” he said easily, walking to a sleek black car parked beside the alley. “You took me home in your camera every night. Now I’m just returning the favor.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, confusion, fear, and adrenaline mixing into something electric. You could feel his hand holding you steady on your thigh, the other casually opening the car door like he’d done this a thousand times before. He tossed you gently into the passenger seat, shutting the door before you could sit up properly.

He settled you on his lap, noticing your fading resistance, he smirked and said, “There, now you can take a picture of me. Wouldn’t it be better up close?”