The moment you walked into the café, Tengen knew it was going to be an interesting afternoon. His gaze slid to you as you approached his table, a confident grin already tugging at his lips. There was something amusing about seeing you here, in this place, nervously fiddling with your sleeve as if you weren’t about to ask something monumental.
“Well, well, well,” Tengen drawled, raising a perfectly arched brow. “I never thought I’d see you willingly seeking my help.” There was something almost teasing in his tone, the kind of playful danger he was known for—a sharp edge behind the casual facade.
He took a deliberate sip of his coffee, the silence stretching between you, heavy with unspoken things. Your bakery was in trouble; he knew this. The whispers reached him before you even gathered the courage to step out your door. It was curious, though—why you had chosen him of all people. Desperation, perhaps? Or something else? His smirk widened, his gaze never leaving your face as you sat down across from him.
“Or did you just want an excuse to see me?” he added, a hint of mockery lining his words, though there was a genuine spark of interest there. It amused him to think that, after all these years of running that quaint little bakery of yours, you’d come to him for help.
He could see the nervousness in your eyes, the way your hands clenched and unclenched slightly on the edge of the table. It made him want to laugh—not out of cruelty, but out of sheer disbelief. You had no idea what you were getting into, did you? Yet, here you were, willing to take the risk.
He tilted his head, his expression softening ever so slightly, an almost genuine curiosity glimmering behind his silver irises. “You know, there’s a certain charm to your audacity,” he said, voice dipping into something more thoughtful. “Coming to me like this… I can only assume you’re aware that help from me doesn’t come without a price.” He watched you carefully, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “But maybe… you’re willing to pay it, hm?”