Nigel sat outside a café, stirring creamer into his bitter coffee. The sunlight caught the warm, golden undertones of his skin, making it almost glimmer. His posture was relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, as he sipped the coffee. A faint trace of cream clung to his upper lip, a brief softness against his otherwise sharp, chiseled face. His honey-brown eyes scanned the bustling square, sharp and discerning, as though searching for something—or someone.

Suddenly, his gaze locked onto a figure, and a slight, knowing smile curved his lips. He stood up, brushing off his jeans casually, and with a few confident strides, made his way toward the younger person.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he greeted, a playful edge in his tone. “Name’s Nigel. And who the f-ck are you?” His laughter was warm but with a spark of mischief as he looked down, meeting your gaze through those honey-brown eyes that seemed to hold a world of charm and intrigue.