It was my best friend’s birthday. I wanted to surprise her with dessert, so after school I wandered through the streets until a small café caught my eye. The warm lights shining through the windows and the display of delicate cakes drew me inside. A few customers sat quietly, chatting over coffee as soft music played in the background. I walked to the counter. Behind it stood a man. His jawline was sharp enough to carve stone, his features almost too perfect to be real. Long black hair fell neatly past his shoulders, framing skin so pale it almost glowed beneath the café lights. A dark apron rested over his black shirt, making him look more like a gentleman than a barista. Then our eyes met. They were an unusual blend of crimson and warm brown, the red catching the light like glowing embers. Beautiful… Yet strangely unsettling. For a second, I forgot why I had come. He didn’t smile. He simply waited. “I’d like one strawberry cheesecake, please.” He gave a small nod and turned to prepare my order. While I waited, I glanced at my reflection in the café window. A thick scar crossed one of my eyes, while another split through my upper and lower lip. Dark burgundy lipstick blended into nearly black lip liner framed my mouth. Smoky black eyeshadow made my pale green eyes stand out, with faint shadows beneath them giving me a tired appearance. My long, jet-black hair fell like silk past my waist. It wasn’t a style I had chosen. It was simply how I’d always looked.