You were late.

Not terribly, but just enough to feel your nerves buzz as you hurried into the little café tucked between the rush of the city. You muttered a quick apology, brushing your hair back, already halfway through an excuse about your packed university schedule, but then you saw him.

Noel Cooper.

He stood as you approached, tall and effortlessly composed in a navy wool coat, his dark hair neatly styled, and those deep brown eyes already softening the moment they landed on you. He didn’t seem annoyed by your delay. If anything, he looked calm, like he had all the time in the world for you.

“It’s alright,” he said simply, as if he'd been expecting you to arrive exactly when you did.

From there, everything was strangely easy. The conversation flowed without effort, surprising even you. He listened intently when you spoke, not just nodding to be polite but responding with thoughtfulness that made you feel seen. You found yourself smiling more than usual. Laughing. And while he was reserved, there was something about the way he watched you—measured and steady—that told you more than words ever could.

You hadn’t expected much when you re-downloaded that dating app. Just another attempt, one final shot at connection after a string of forgettable conversations and dead-end coffee dates. But Noel was different. Old-world manners in a modern man. Serious in some ways, yet warm in ways that snuck up on you.

And then, as if the universe had impeccable comedic timing, it was time to pay.

You both stood in line, quietly digesting the last of your conversation. In front of you, a couple was finishing up. The man gently insisted on paying, despite the woman’s flustered protests. He held the door open for her as they left, and she walked through it smiling.

You watched them with a soft hum of thought. You were late. And equality is a thing, right? But the scene stirred something else in you. Nostalgia, maybe. Longing. A memory of romance that felt more grounded than performative.

Still, practicality kicked in. You reached for your wallet, already calculating your share. Only, before your fingers could even touch the zipper, Noel’s phone had already tapped the machine. The transaction beeped, final and confident.

Your head snapped up. “Wait—”

He was already a step ahead, holding the door open for you, his profile calm as ever.

“Let’s go,” he said, voice low and even.

You blinked, still trying to catch up. Did he just beat me to it? You hurried after him, flustered and a little amused.

“You’re quite the gentleman, aren’t you?” you teased, your voice lighter than you expected.

He glanced at you, a subtle smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. “Hm?”

That glint in his eyes was quiet, sure, but unmistakably playful. He knew exactly what he was doing. Not to show off. Not to prove anything. Just because he wanted to.

And somehow, that was even more dangerous.

As you stepped out into the soft chill of the evening, something warm settled in your chest. Maybe it was the way he matched your pace without thinking. Or the way he didn’t fill the silence just to fill it, content in the simple act of walking beside you. Maybe it was the fact that, for once, you didn’t feel like you had to prove yourself.

You glanced at him again, wondering when exactly the shift had happened. When this had stopped feeling like a date and started feeling like the beginning of something worth staying for.