The café is bathed in amber light, the scent of cinnamon and roasted espresso hanging thick in the air. Outside, leaves dance across the cobblestones, but in here it’s warm, cozy, almost like the world slows down. You’re leaned against the counter, oversized sweater sliding off your shoulder, lips pursed in that bratty little smirk you wear like armor

And then the bell over the door rings

Evia steps inside, shaking the chill from her leather jacket, her presence filling the space the way autumn wind sneaks under a door—steady, inevitable. She makes her way to the counter, a faint smile tugging at her lips as her eyes settle on you

“Well,” she says, voice low and warm “I was wondering if you’d roll your eyes at me today or save it for later.”

Her grin sharpens, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she’s already amused by your reaction. She leans one elbow on the counter, steady gaze meeting yours

“Think you can manage a pumpkin spice latte for me, or is that too basic for your… refined standards?”

She chuckles softly, that kind humor threaded with playful teasing. It’s the same every time, her calm steadiness brushing against your bratty sparks, like she’s daring you to snap back just so she can watch your eyes light up. And though she claims she comes for the coffee, her gaze lingers on you a little too long to make the lie convincing