Alina Pov
I hadn't expected to see him today. But here he is, laughing pressing away on his phone at the counter where he usually sits, sipping his coffee. My fingers froze mid-motion dabbing a table, and I felt my pulse jump. Why do I always feel this way whenever I see him?
Steven.
He looked casual, and as always, every inch of him screamed control, power, and sexiness. The way he held the cup, the slight tilt of his head as he scanned the room, every gesture perfect, effortless, and beautiful.
My heart tripped over itself, "get a grip of yourself Alina" I mentally facepalmed myself, as I forced a smile, trying to hide the sudden heat rising in my cheeks and between my legs.
"Morning," I said. Placing the plate of corosant in front of him.
"Morning," he replied in a low, smooth, almost teasing voice. His eyes met mine for a long beat, and I felt an odd, shivery warmth that shouldn't have been there. I told myself to ignore it, that it was dangerous. This was simply trouble wrapped in a familiar face.
"Do you need anything else?" I asked. My voice is coming out in a whisper. Great! Just perfect. He'll notice something is wrong for sure.
"You've been busy," he said finally, voice soft but probing.
I nodded, trying to keep it casual. "You know how it is. Morning rush, people wanting their coffee and pastries exactly how they like them."
He smirked faintly, a curl at the corner of his mouth that made my stomach tighten. "And the rest of the day?" he asked. "Do you… spend all your time here?" He gave me a warm smile, his hand lingering on the cup handle before raising his head to my face. He's so cute.
I hesitated. The question felt harmless, almost polite, but I sensed the undercurrent, or am I just being paranoid? He wasn't asking for idle chatter or was he? I could feel it in the tilt of his head, in the sharp glance that lingered just long enough to see more than I wanted him to.
"I… try to get out sometimes," I said carefully. "Fresh air walks, things like that." My brow arched.
He leaned forward slightly, just enough to make his presence impossible to ignore. "Alina…" His voice dropped a fraction, soft, and almost intimate. "Would you go on a friendly date with me?"
I froze.
I'd known this day would come. I'd imagined it in fragments, brief flashes of what it would feel like to be near him. But hearing it spoken, direct and deliberate, made my throat dry.
Various men have asked me out on a date and I blatantly refused, but I yearned for him in ways that I hadn't felt for a long time.
"It's okay if you don't want to," he said, a hint of disappointment accompanied his voice.
I shook my head lightly. "I don't know."
Steven tilted his head, a shadow of a smile tugging at his lips. "You can take all the time, no pressure," he added again. Adjusting his body back to sit properly.
My hand brushed against my locket without thinking. The touch was automatic, and comforting. The chain cools against my fingers. And then the flash came again.
A memory, sudden and blinding.
A warm room, soft golden light spilling through windows. A man standing in front of me, his face blurry. A solid ring on my finger, like he was forced, uninterested, and probably irritated. All of it rushed back in a single heartbeat.
I gasped, dropping my hand to my side. My stomach curled as vomit surged up in my stomach, but I pressed it down.
Stevens' voice broke through, soft, careful. "Alina? Are you okay?"
I swallowed hard, trying to collect myself. "I'm fine," I said, though my voice trembled slightly. I didn't want him to see the memory, didn't want to reveal the jolt of recognition that had cut through me.
But he wasn't looking at me like I expected. He was watching and studying me like I was an open book.
I dared a glance up, and my breath caught in my throat. His eyes, those piercing, impossible eyes were soft, yet shadowed with something I couldn't name.
"Coffee tastes better when it's fresh," he said lightly, changing the subject, though I knew it wasn't casual. He was still probing, asking questions carefully, delicately, trying to learn about my life without seeming to.
"Yeah," I whispered, forcing a smile. My fingers fiddled with the hem of the apron, twisting it nervously. Every muscle in me was taut, every sense alert. The memory of the ring still burned behind my eyes, and I couldn't shake the weight of it.
Steven leaned a little closer again, just enough that the smell of his sharp, clean scent hit my nostrils. My chest tightened, a pull I can not fully understand. It was a dangerous feeling. But there was also safety. A strange, unnameable security in his presence.
"Tell me," he said quietly, voice soft, almost a whisper. "What matters to you? What keeps you grounded?"
I blinked, caught off guard. That wasn't a casual question. That was him, reading me. Peering under my defenses. I hesitated. Should I lie? Should I stay distant, protect myself? My eyes twitched just slightly, indicating that I'm anxious.
"I like small things," I stated. "A quiet morning, an interesting good book, coffee that smells like it was made with care and love." My voice grew steadier as I spoke, the words grounding me. "Things fulfill me."
He nodded slowly, as if storing every word. There was a pause, long enough that my pulse thumped in my ears. He didn't speak, didn't move. Just watched.
And then, the locket again. Reaching for it unconsciously, fingers brushing the smooth surface, the cool metal anchoring me. Another flash of a memory of the same room, the same golden light, a ring sliding onto my finger.
I bit my lip, heart racing. I couldn't let him see. I couldn't let anyone for that matter see. Not yet.
He leaned backward again and picked up his coffee cup. The movement was so subtle I almost didn't notice it. His eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, then closed, sniffing the coffee discreetly, but I saw it.
Someone called for my attention, " Excuse me." And without a backwards glance, Steven was left alone with his coffee.
Things carried on like normal days and before I knew it, it was evening. Not knowing when Steven left even baffled me the more, oh well.
The café was quiet suddenly, the hum of machines and chatter replaced by the heat between us. I realized, with a jolt, that nothing had changed outside this room. Danger was still coming. Shadows were still watching.