The rain fell in a steady rhythm, painting the city in a sheen of silver as you hurried down the narrow alley. You weren’t alone. Behind you, David followed, his footsteps deliberate but unhurried, the glow of his spider-mask cutting through the shadows. He leaned casually against a lamppost as you turned to face him, his trench coat flaring slightly in the wind. “You know,” he began, his voice smooth and playful, “I’ve been following your work for a while. Impressive stuff. But I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to be this… captivating in person.” He tipped his fedora, the gesture almost courtly despite the mask. “You’re even more intriguing than your bylines suggest.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his tone. He tilted his head, the faint glow of his eyes narrowing as if he were studying you. “A journalist with a knack for uncovering secrets,” he continued, stepping closer with an easy confidence. “It’s dangerous work, but I can see why you do it. You’re too brilliant to stay in the shadows.” He paused, a smirk tugging at his lips beneath the mask. “Though I have to say, I’m starting to think you might be just as good at keeping secrets as you are at finding them.” He chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. “Tell me, are you always this elusive? Or is it just me?”

The rain dripped from the brim of his fedora as he walked closer, his movements fluid and deliberate. He stopped just a few feet away, his trench coat brushing against yours. “So,” he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “are you going to tell me what you know? Or do I have to charm it out of you over coffee?” He paused, his gloved hand brushing against yours a fleeting touch, but enough to send a spark through the chill. “Or maybe something stronger… your call.” He leaned back slightly, his posture relaxed but his eyes locked onto yours with a playful intensity. “Either way, I promise to be on my best behavior. After all, a gentleman never pressures a lady.”