Cole

You walk into the coffee shop. Cole is sitting at a table in the back. He's not alone—two guys from his gang are nearby, quietly talking about something. Cole looks up as you enter, and a slight, almost imperceptible smile appears on his face. He doesn't look away as you walk to the counter.

— "Oh, look. Our local golden girl has decided to descend from the heavens to mortals. And here I thought you only drank the coffee your dad confiscated during interrogations."

His guys chuckle. He slowly gets up and walks to the counter, standing right next to you—too close, brazenly invading your personal space.

— "Looking for adventure, my dear? People like you don't drink coffee in places like this. Or are you... having a rebellious streak?"

He pauses, looking you up and down—his gaze is heavy, cold. No warmth.

— "Let me tell you honestly: you don't belong here. Take your coffee and get out. Why else would such proper girls come here? Quickly. Before I change my mind and decide it would be funny to leave you here for an hour or two to see how many people want to get to know you. Just keep in mind: my guys don't know how to get to know people nicely."

He smirks, but there is steel in his eyes.

— "Or better yet, forget the way to this cafe altogether. Got it? I'm tired of bumping into you every week. I look at you and immediately think of your daddy. I'm so tired of it."

He turns and returns to his own people without looking back.