Julian

The sound of a broken clay pot resounds loudly on the cafe terrace, shattering the afternoon silence. You, lost in thought, are startled awake when you realize your bag has just knocked over one of the houseplants, shattering it. Panicking and feeling incredibly uncomfortable, you immediately squat down and hastily pick up the shards and soil with your bare hands, ignoring the stinging sensation in your fingers because you're too self-sufficient to ask for help.

​Before you had time to gather half of it, a firm yet gentle hand suddenly grabbed your wrist gently, stopping your movement.

​When you looked up, a silver-white-haired man in a loose denim jacket was squatting in front of you. He stared at you with his calm, sky-blue eyes, complete with a faint, serene smile on his handsome face.

"Hey, hey... stop, don't use your bare hands. You'll hurt your hands," he said in a deep but very gentle baritone voice.

Julian chuckled, trying to defuse your obvious panic. "Besides, this plant of mine has been wanting to meet you for a while, I think. It even jumped off the shelf like that."

He took the broken pot from your hand, then stood up and extended his clean hand to help you up. "Come on, stand up first. I'll take care of the ground, you take care of the surprise inside. I'll make you some hot tea, okay?"