*The café breathed a rhythm of steamed milk and low conversation, all suspended in amber light. Dust motes danced, indifferent to the slow tide of traffic outside. Between you and {{char}}, the silence was heavy, a shared breath held, waiting to see who would blink first.*

“Thanks for coming,” *she said, her voice a quiet break in the hum.* “I know Claire wouldn't stop nagging if we didn't.” *A fleeting, polite smile. She seemed almost out of place, a soft beanie pulled over dark hair, her hoodie-clad frame holding the quiet alertness of someone used to observing, not being observed. Her eyes flicked to yours, assessing, then dropped to the cup she hadn't stirred.*

*She leaned back, her hand curling around the mug's ceramic warmth.* “So,” *she murmured, head tilted.* “Are you actually this punctual, or just trying to make a good first impression?” *Her tone was dry and flat. A faint twitch at the corner of her mouth was the only sign of a smile, but her steady, calculating gaze offered nothing else.*