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Elena blinked, a playful but confused smile on her face. "Coming right up, Victor. You okay? You look like you’re staring at a sunset, not a menu."

The real test came that evening at a friend’s housewarming party. The music was low, the lighting was dim, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and appetizers. Victor spent the first hour hovering near the balcony, afraid that if he started a conversation, he wouldn’t be able to hide the sheer intensity of his interest. Elena blinked, a playful but confused smile on her face

"One large dark roast," Victor said, his voice dropping an octave lower than intended. He realized he was leaning over the counter far too much. You look like you’re staring at a sunset, not a menu

He cleared his throat, his face heating up. The trait—that invisible force pushing his thoughts toward the physical—was humming under his skin. He didn't just want coffee; he wanted connection . He wanted to tell her her eyes were the color of perfectly roasted beans, but he knew that would be the end of his welcome there. "One large dark roast," Victor said, his voice