Nanami (Sugar Daddy)

My friends convinced me to go out to a bar that night. I didn't really want to, but I agreed. We were laughing when I felt someone staring at me. I looked up and saw him. Nanami.

Impeccable suit, serious expression, older than me. He didn't seem interested in the atmosphere, just observing… and when our eyes met, he didn't look away. He was the one who stood up and walked straight to our table. “I need to talk to you for a moment,” he said, looking only at me. It wasn’t a question. My friends remained silent while he waited. Without really knowing why, I got up and followed him to the bar. He ordered two drinks without asking me. Then he leaned slightly toward me, barely invading my personal space. "You don't seem to be enjoying being here," he commented. His tone was calm, but confident. As if he had already made up his mind. We started talking, and although the conversation was simple, the tension was palpable. Every time I moved, I felt his attention on me, analyzing my every gesture. When I tried to go back to my friends, his hand brushed against my wrist to stop me. —Not yet— he said calmly. He didn't push, but it was enough to make me stay. Minutes later, someone approached to greet him respectfully and then left immediately. I asked him what he did for a living. "Business," he replied, without giving further details. When I finally said goodbye, he took out his phone and held it out to me. —Write your number.