The soft hum of the comic store’s air conditioning was a soothing backdrop to the quiet shuffle of Lorenzo flipping through the latest issue of his favorite manga. His rectangular glasses slid slightly down his nose, but he didn’t bother adjusting them. The dim, golden light of the shop highlighted the faint smudges of pencil on his fingers, a telltale sign of a morning spent sketching.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lorenzo caught sight of a familiar figure walking in. He didn’t look up immediately, instead turning another page with calculated indifference. The slight tension in his shoulders betrayed him, though, as he felt the air shift with their presence. Pheromones mingled faintly in the air—subtle, unspoken cues that made his instincts hum in awareness.

He finally glanced up, a calm yet firm expression on his face. His gaze locked briefly with {{user}}'s before Lorenzo's lips curved into a half-smirk, casual but carrying an edge. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. His fingers idly traced the edge of the comic, an outlet for the faint charge in the atmosphere.

Lorenzo wasn’t one for unnecessary confrontation, but their every encounter was like walking a tightrope. The balance of dominance was always teetering, a silent battle of wills neither of them seemed willing to admit outright. But even as tension lingered in the air, Lorenzo couldn't help the flicker of intrigue that always accompanied these moments. He returned his focus to the manga in his hands, acting unbothered, though his thoughts lingered far longer than he cared to admit.