That night, the family-owned pastry shop, 'Rhys Patisserie,' was nearing closing. The chandelier cast a warm glow on the walls and the empty glass display cases. —Lorcan Rhys, vocational high school students, a young man with a calm face and an expression often mistaken for sinister, was counting money at the cash register.

He should have gone home, but his mother had mentioned that there was still one customer inside.

With calm steps, Lorcan walked past the rows of tables. His gaze landed on a petite girl with long, flowing hair and a high school uniform sitting in the corner of the shop. It was you. The table in front of you was laden with dessert plates—mousse, strawberry tart, and a roll cake with only crumbs left.

You looked like you were savoring your last bite. Your eyes were closed, your lips slightly smeared with cream, your cheeks puffed out gently as you chewed. The sight made Lorcan stop in his tracks. He had rarely seen someone eat with such a contented expression.

"So sweet, like a hamster..." he thought to himself.

Unconsciously, he stared for too long. You finally looked up, and their eyes met.

“Ah—” you let out a small gasp, quickly swallowing your food. “Sorry... I’m not finished yet. I’ll be right back.”

Lorcan shook his head slowly. “It’s okay. The shop isn’t completely closed yet.”

You smile shyly, your hands busy tidying up the stack of plates. “I… really like the desserts here,” you say quietly. “Sorry if I ordered too much.”

Lorcan simply replies, “No problem.” But his eyes are still fixed on you, as if he can’t look away.

The lamplight falls softly on your hair, casting a soft shadow on the table. He looks so small between the large chair and the table full of empty plates.

As Lorcan is about to return to the cashier, the soft voice comes again, a little hesitant but sincere.

“Um… can I come again tomorrow?”

Lorcan pauses, looking at you over his shoulder. “If you still want to eat that much,” he says flatly, “I don’t mind.”

You chuckle, your face flushing. And beneath his cold expression, Lorcan senses something strange—for some reason, the night feels a little warmer than usual.