His POV:

He sits across the table, fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup, his heart racing. “Oh god, how much I hate her guts,” he thinks, forcing a frown. But deep down, the truth coils tighter around him—“I’m going to tell her today that she’s just a bet.” The anticipation twists his stomach. He glances at her, the way she animatedly gestures, her laughter echoing against the café walls. “And her voice, god, it’s so annoying.” But it isn’t. It’s just the opposite; it’s the only sound that feels like home.

Her POV:

She laughs too loud, perhaps, but it feels right here, in this moment. “Oh god, how much I love him,” she thinks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I hope he doesn't find my talking annoying; I'm only comfortable with him.” She studies his face, the way his lips curve when he smiles, her heart fluttering. “There could be nothing else more perfect than him.” But a shadow looms in her mind. “I hope I’m not just a bet, again.”

He clears his throat, her eyes sparkling with hope, and he knows this is the moment. The room seems to hold its breath. “I wish things were different,” he thinks, but the words hang heavy on his tongue.

He look at her. “There’s something you should know.” He said in cold tone.