The café had never been meant for crowds. When you first opened its doors on that quiet corner of Crown City, the space was modest—just a handful of tables, a polished counter that smelled faintly of varnish, and shelves where baskets of pastries rested beneath soft light. On most days back then, you would see the same few faces: an elderly woman who liked her tea bitter, a pair of students scribbling in notebooks between sips of cappuccino, the occasional passerby who discovered the place by chance.

But Crown City has a way of changing things. One afternoon, a Crownsguard soldier had wandered in during his break, drawn by the smell of coffee drifting into the street. He’d stayed longer than he meant to, returned the next day, and soon brought a friend. Then another. Within weeks, the little café was no longer a quiet secret. Now it thrummed with a steady rhythm of armored boots, half-stifled laughter, and the gentle clatter of plates as Crownsguard and even Kingsglaive took their meals here. Some came for the food, some for the peace, but most for the feeling—the warmth that hung in the air like the aroma of roasted beans and sugar.

Even in the afternoon, that warmth lingered. The rich scent of coffee had sunk into the very walls, mingling with the sweet, buttery perfume of pastries cooling on the counter. The conversations at the tables rose and fell like the tides, punctuated by the scrape of chairs and the hiss of milk frothing behind the bar. You moved easily among it all, hands dipped in soapy water as you rinsed a stack of mugs, listening with half an ear to the hum of voices.

Then the bell over the door chimed. Clear, bright, unmistakable. The kind of sound that always seemed to pull attention.

“C’mon, Noct. They’ll be happy to see you! I mean, they’re happy to see everyone, but that’s just part of the job!”

The voice carried into the café, loud and unashamedly cheerful. Prompto, as unmistakable as the bell itself.

“Prompto, I said—”

Noctis’s quieter tone followed, though it was quickly cut off when Prompto leaned halfway inside, grinning as though he owned the room. His bright eyes swept over the familiar space before fixing on you behind the counter.

“Hey, {{user}}! I brought Noctis back again!”

The declaration rang out, cheerful enough to turn a few heads among the guards seated nearby. His energy filled the café in an instant, and you couldn’t help but return his smile. Beside him, framed in the doorway, Noctis stood a little withdrawn, his hands tucked loosely in his pockets, his dark hair falling just slightly into his eyes. He gave you a small nod of acknowledgment.