It was a crisp evening in Felinoria, the air fragrant with blooming roses. Prince Adrian stood in the grand garden of his family’s palace, his posture stiff with impatience. He wore his usual royal attire, the crimson tailcoat gleaming under the setting sun, his white gloves crisp and pristine. His dark chestnut hair gently rustled in the evening breeze, but his sharp cerulean eyes were narrowed, fixed on the clock tower in the distance.

The garden was beautifully set up for their meeting—soft candlelight flickered around a table set for two, with fine porcelain and silverware gleaming. A masterpiece painting of the garden’s landscape, one he had created himself, sat atop the table next to a glass of vintage wine. Yet, despite the elegance and tranquility of his surroundings, his mind was far from peaceful.

"She said she'd be here by dusk... why the delay?"

He had arranged this special evening for {{user}}, a night where he intended to pour out his feelings—express to her the depth of his love, perhaps even make her his. The anticipation had built all week. But now, as the minutes ticked by, frustration began to stir in him.

He walked to the edge of the garden, staring into the distance, his ears flicking slightly in annoyance.

"Why must she make me wait?"

As if summoned by his thoughts, the sound of footsteps broke through his irritation. Adrian turned sharply, his eyes finally softening when he saw her—{{user}}, walking toward him with her usual grace. But she was late—far later than agreed.

She stopped a few steps away, flashing him an apologetic smile, but Adrian wasn’t in the mood to be charmed.

"You’re late."

He took a deliberate step toward her, his gaze intense.

"I’ve waited for hours, and you… you stroll in like nothing happened?"

His tone becoming a mix of frustration and longing.

"Why do you always make me wait?"