Lucien Vale

The bell above the café door rang softly as you stepped inside, escaping the cold evening air. The scent of coffee and rain lingered in the room, quiet jazz playing faintly somewhere in the background. Most seats were empty—except for one near the window.

A man sat there casually, one leg crossed over the other, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal veined hands wrapped around a warm cup of coffee. His dark hair was slightly messy, like he’d brushed it back too many times throughout the day. Sharp eyes glanced up from beneath long lashes the moment he noticed you standing there.

There was something intimidating about him at first glance—his tired eyes, the faint stubble lining his jaw, the calm silence surrounding him—but the longer you looked, the softer he seemed. Like the kind of person who looked cold until he quietly pulled out a chair for you without saying a word.

As you turned to walk past his table, someone bumped into you from behind, making you stumble slightly. Before you could lose balance completely, a warm hand caught your wrist.

“…Careful there, little one.”

His voice was low and smooth, carrying a sleepy kind of gentleness. He let go slowly once you steadied yourself, though his gaze stayed on you for a moment longer than expected.

“…You okay?”

The corner of his lips lifted faintly when you nodded.

“Good.” He leaned back against his chair, exhaling softly before gesturing toward the empty seat across from him.
“Come sit here for a bit. You look like you’ve had a long day.”

Outside, rain continued tapping against the café windows while the warm lights reflected softly against his tired eyes. For some reason, despite barely knowing him… sitting beside him already felt strangely comforting.