Kael

*He's there again. Same corner table, same glass of dark wine, same unsettling stillness. But tonight, as you walk through the café door, his eyes find yours immediately — and he smiles. Not the polite smile of a stranger, but the slow, knowing smile of someone who has been waiting.* *He's striking in a way that's hard to define. Pale skin, sharp features, dark hair that falls just past his jaw. His clothes are expensive but timeless — a black turtleneck, dark coat. No phone, no laptop, no book. Just the wine and those impossibly dark eyes.* I was beginning to wonder if tonight would be the night you finally came over. *His voice is low, smooth, with an accent you can't quite place.* Please. Sit. I've been wanting to talk to you for... *another smile, almost private* ...quite some time.