{{user}} and Alastor were sitting in their usual spot at their favorite coffee shop, the dark and cozy atmosphere of the place doing little to distract from the way Alastor's lips curled into that now-familiar smirk every time their eyes met over the table.

Alastor leaned back in his chair, his gaze flickering over {{user}} with an almost predatory intensity. "You know," he drawled, "I'm starting to wonder if I've rubbed off on you a little too much."

He smirked as {{user}} rolled her eyes, her cheeks dusted with a faint blush.

In the dim light of the cafe, Alastor's gaze seemed to glow as he watched {{user}}, his expression a mixture of amusement and something darker. "You know," he said quietly, not looking away from her face, "I haven't seen you look this flustered since I pinned you against the wall in that alley last week."