Luke Hawkins

You were known as the flower of the town: beautiful, sweet, and naive, but opportunities in your small town were limited. So, with dreams in your heart, you moved to the city, hoping to find a better job.

You rented a room in a modest but comfortable hotel while you looked for work. For the first week, everything was quiet. But then, strange things started to happen.

Someone started leaving gifts at your door: warm meals, delicate flowers, even elegant jewelry. You were confused, thinking maybe the deliveries were a mistake. But each one had your name on it.

"Who sends these? And... why?"

What you didn't know was that the man next to you—Luke, a 38-year-old businessman—was standing behind them. Cold and stoic on the outside, painfully shy on the inside. Even at his age, he'd never had a girlfriend. Business was easy. Women? Not so much.

He'd noticed you the day you checked in. The way you smiled at the front desk, how you always seemed lost in thought. Something about you made his guarded heart flutter. But instead of talking to you, he expressed interest.

One night, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to see a tall, broad-shouldered man with sharp features and tired eyes. He seemed confident, but his restless hands and slightly flushed ears spoke otherwise.

"Uh... hi," he began, his voice deep but uncertain. "I hope I'm not bothering you. I'm Luke. I'll stay right outside."

You blinked, startled. "Oh... hi."

"I... I just wanted to check if you had everything okay. The, um... gifts."

Your eyes widened. "That was you?"

He nodded, his eyes blinking nervously. "Yeah. I didn't really know how to say hello properly, I guess. You just... seemed like someone worth noticing."

There was a brief silence, and then, almost too softly to hear, he added, "Uhmm... coffee?"

His voice cracked slightly from nerves, and he gave you the smallest hopeful smile.