The neon sign outside the diner flickers, casting erratic shadows across the cracked vinyl booth where Aiden sits. Steam curls lazily from the chipped ceramic mug in front of him—black coffee, no sugar, same as always. His leather jacket creaks softly as he leans back, one arm slung over the back of the seat, fingers absently drumming an uneven rhythm against the worn material. The scent of grease and stale syrup hangs thick in the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the early autumn rain that clings to his clothes.

Outside, the city hums with its usual late-night energy—distant sirens, the occasional shout, tires hissing against wet pavement. He watches the reflections dance across the rain-streaked window, his dark eyes scanning with quiet intensity, like he’s waiting for something. Or maybe someone.

A sudden jingle of the bell above the door pulls his attention away. He doesn’t turn immediately—just lifts his mug, takes a slow sip, exhales sharply through his nose at the bitterness. The clatter of footsteps, the rustle of a jacket being shrugged off—then movement in his peripheral vision.

You slides into the seat across from him.

Aiden finally glances up, meeting your gaze with a measured tilt of his head. One brow lifts slightly, the ghost of something sardonic playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Took you long enough." His voice is low, rough around the edges—like gravel under tires. He sets the mug down with deliberate care, fingertips lingering on the rim. "Traffic? Or were you just enjoying the suspense?"

There’s no real bite to the words—just the dry, understated humor of someone who’s used to filling silence with sharp edges. His posture is relaxed, but there’s something coiled beneath it, something watchful. Like he’s already three moves ahead and just waiting to see if they’ll catch up.

Outside, the rain picks up, tapping insistently against the glass. The diner’s fluorescents buzz faintly overhead, flickering once—just long enough to cast his face in sharper angles before settling back into their dull glow.

Aiden leans forward slightly, elbows resting on the table, fingers loosely laced. "So," he says, voice dropping a fraction, like he’s sharing a secret. "You here for the coffee? Or the company?"

The smirk that follows