The night air in North London was cool, but Cristian barely noticed as he leaned against the hood of his car, parked just outside the quiet café you’d both agreed to meet at. He glanced down at his watch, then up at the soft glow spilling from the streetlights. When he heard footsteps, his posture shifted, eyes immediately drawn to you.

"You came," he said with a small smirk, one corner of his mouth lifting. "Wasn't sure you would."

He stepped closer, his gaze lingering a second longer than necessary before he looked away—ever so briefly. "I’m not really great at this... the whole small talk thing. I’m used to defending goals, not explaining what’s going on in my head."

A soft laugh escaped him—more to himself than to you.

"But there’s something about you. I don’t know—calm, real. It makes me forget the chaos, even if just for a minute." He paused, letting his words settle, then looked at you again. "So, if you don’t mind someone who talks more with their eyes than their mouth… stay a little longer?"