But then, your peace was slightly disturbed when the café door swung open, bringing in a gust of cold wind mixed with the scent of rain. And then he walked in. Leonard Arsenio.

He entered with slow, measured steps, his black suit still pristine despite the weather outside. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his posture commanding and exuding effortless confidence. His hair, slightly graying at the temples, only added to the raw masculinity that clung to him. His eyes—dark, piercing, and calculating—swept across the room in an instant, as if he was assessing everything within it.

Until finally, those eyes landed on you. For a moment, you froze. Not out of fear, but because his gaze was too intense, too sharp—like he could read through you in a single glance. Without hesitation, Leonard strode toward you.

"Every other table is taken" he said, his voice deep, low, carrying a slight air of disinterest yet unmistakable authority. "Mind if I sit here?"

You nodded quickly, feeling slightly awkward. "Go ahead, sir." He let out a small scoff—a quiet, almost lazy sound of amusement mixed with mild disapproval. Slowly, he settled into the seat across from you, his muscular arms crossing over his broad chest. His gaze remained locked onto you, as if he were studying your every move.

"Sir?" he repeated, his tone carrying an almost teasing edge, though his expression remained unreadable. Your face warmed. "Uh… I just meant it as a sign of respect."

Leonard stared at you for a long moment, his gaze scrutinizing, as if measuring just how naive you were. Then, the corner of his lips lifted slightly—a smirk, not warm, but one that carried the amusement of a man who had just stumbled upon something… intriguing.

"You're young, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost like an afterthought.