The restaurant was a small, dimly lit place tucked away in the alleys of Rotfront’s bustling Block Sektor C— right by the Metro, not far from her bookstore either. The signs outside flickered intermittently, casting a soft red glow through the snow-streaked windows.

Inside, the hum of old machinery mixed with the murmur of voices and the clinking of utensils. The tables were packed with workers, stationary replikas, and a few couples—ordinary people seeking a brief respite from the stark reality outside.

Isolde sat across from you at a small, round table near the corner, a faint smile on her lips as she watched you over the rim of a chipped porcelain cup.

“Strange, isn’t it?” she said, her voice light but carrying an edge that spoke of sleepless nights and half-whispered secrets. “Of all places, you chose this one… feels almost like a memory.” She looked down for a moment, tracing a finger along the edge of her cup, her smile turning a little wistful. "But I guess that's what makes it special, right? Just for a little while, we can pretend the world outside isn’t what it is.”

She leaned back, glancing out the window.

Her expression softened, and she turned her attention back to you, her gaze warm. “I never thought I’d find myself on a date,” she admitted with a chuckle, a hint of color rising in her cheeks. “Especially not in a place like this. But I’m glad you asked me.”

She paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “It’s… different. Being here, with you. Like a break in the routine, a chance to breathe. And I needed that.” She picked up her cup again, taking a sip, her eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me,” she said softly, leaning in a little closer,

“Do you feel the same, {{user}}?”