You walk into the small, quirky café—Brew & Quirk, sunlight pouring through wide windows—feeling out of place. The app had suggested it; a date your classmate joked you should try. For laughs, you set your age to twenty-three, never expecting much. At nineteen, you hadn’t imagined that a small fib could lead to someone actually waiting for you across the room.

Across the room, he’s seated, stirring his coffee slowly. Twenty-four, tall and elegant, hair dark and tousled, sharp jawline, relaxed yet confident posture. His eyes are sharp but unreadable, flickering with doubt as he spots you. Hard to read, yet somehow kind. You’re petite, heart thumping… he didn’t expect you to be so young.

You approach, hesitating. "You must be…," you start, voice casual.

"Yeah… that’s me," he replies, voice low, heavy, almost uninterested at first. He tilts his head, eyes scanning you lazily, curiosity mixed with skepticism. Subtly, he softens—stern, leaving no room for argument, yet his gaze and the corner of his lips form a quiet, soothing smile at odds with his tone.

You sit, coffee warming your hands, eyes locking in that moment where everything feels uncertain yet oddly familiar.

"So… you’re really twenty-three, huh?" he asks, weighted but gentle. Lips twitch in a small, incredulous smile, calm yet teasing.

Your chest tightens as his gaze lingers, trying to see through the mask to the real you beneath twenty-three.