Warmth and sip of hot chocolate

Eve guided Vincent to a quaint cafe nestled between rows of old, familiar shops. The kind of place that felt frozen in time. The soft glow of the hanging lights inside spilled out onto the street. The bell chimed softly as they stepped inside.

The cafe was just as Eve remembered it—intimate and welcoming, with the faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla hanging in the air. She felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her as she looked around, the memories of her high school days tugging gently at her heart. It had been her favorite spot back then, a place where she could escape the noise of the world and just be.

They chose a cozy corner booth, away from the few other patrons scattered around the cafe. The soft hum of jazz music played in the background, creating an atmosphere that was both soothing and intimate.

Eve sat down, her fingers tracing the worn edges of the menu, though she didn't need to look at it. She already knew what she wanted.

"A hot chocolate, please," she said, smiling at the waitress, who seemed to recognize her, though neither said anything.

Vincent glanced at the menu briefly before ordering. "Mint lemonade for me."

Eve raised an eyebrow, amused. "Mint lemonade? On a chilly evening like this?"

Vincent chuckled softly, leaning back in his seat. "I like a little contrast. Keeps things interesting."

The waitress left to prepare their drinks. While, Eve leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand as she gazed out the window, watching the lights from passing cars flicker by.

"This place hasn't changed a bit," she said, her voice soft with nostalgia. "I used to come here all the time when I was in high school. It was my little escape."

Vincent watched her closely, noticing the way her expression softened when she talked about the past. He could almost see the younger version of her. There was a fragility in her that she tried to hide, but it was there, lingering just beneath the surface.

"You mentioned you lived with your grandmother during those years," Vincent said, steering the conversation gently. "What was that like?"

Her smile faltered for a moment, a shadow of sadness passing through her eyes, but she recovered quickly. "It was nice, actually. Peaceful. My parents were always busy with work, so living with Grandma was a breath of fresh air. She was this strong, independent woman who had lived through so much, but she never let anything break her spirit."

Vincent listened intently. Family—his own was a far cry from the warmth and love Eve described. His family was built on power, manipulation, and control. He envied the purity of Eve's memories, the simplicity of her life before everything changed.

Eve sighed softly, looking down at her hands. "I left this place after she died. I just... I couldn't stay. It felt too empty without her. So, I moved to New York with my parents. But it never really felt like home, you know?"

Vincent nodded, though he couldn't fully relate. Home had never meant much to him. It was just another place where the game was played, where alliances were made and broken.

"And now you're back," Vincent said, his voice low, as though he didn't want to disturb the stillness that hung between them.

"Yeah," Eve replied, her gaze distant for a moment. "After four years, I decided to come back. I'm staying at the farmhouse just outside of town—it's about a half-hour drive from here. It's nice... quiet. Exactly what I need right now."

Vincent felt a twinge of guilt again. His life, with all its chaos and deceit, felt like an intrusion in this peaceful world she had rebuilt for herself. But he pushed the thought aside. For now, he could give her the version of himself that fit into this picture—a man with a normal life, far removed from the shadows he lived in.

"Sounds like a good place to clear your head," he said.

Just then, their drinks arrived. Eve wrapped her hands around the warm mug of hot chocolate, savoring the heat as it seeped into her skin. Vincent took a sip of his mint lemonade, the coolness of it a sharp contrast to the warmth of the cafe.

"So," Eve said after a moment, her tone lightening as she shifted the conversation. "What about you? You live in the city, don't you?"

Vincent paused for the briefest of moments before answering. "Not exactly. I move around a lot for work. I have a place in the city, but I'm not there much."

It was another half-truth. He had several properties, but they were more for business purposes than actual living. His real life was far more complicated than he was willing to share with her.

"What kind of work do you do again?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Consulting," Vincent replied smoothly, keeping his tone casual. "I help firms with financial management, streamlining their operations."

Eve nodded, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. "So what do you do when you're not working?" she asked, steering the conversation back to safer ground.

Vincent smiled, grateful for the shift. "I like to read. And I've picked up photography recently. It's a nice way to capture moments, freeze them in time."

Her eyes lit up. "Photography? That's amazing."

"How about you?" Vincent asked, turning the conversation back to her. "What do you do to unwind?"

Eve smiled, her cheeks flushed slightly from the warmth of the hot chocolate and the coziness of the moment. "I like gardening, actually. My grandma had this beautiful garden, and I used to help her with it. It's therapeutic in a way—something about planting seeds and watching them grow."

Vincent could picture it, Eve in a sunlit garden, her hands covered in soil, a peaceful smile on her face. It was a stark contrast to his world, but it made him feel something he couldn't quite put into words. Maybe it was longing, or maybe it was envy for the simplicity and beauty of a life he could never have.

Eve cradled her cup of hot chocolate in both hands, savoring the warmth as she looked at Vincent with a relaxed smile. Their conversation had dipped into lighter topics now—hobbies, childhood memories, favorite books and films.

The way Vincent listened, his green eyes focused on her as though nothing else existed in the world at that moment, made her feel seen in a way she hadn't experienced in a long time. She found herself laughing more than she had in weeks.

Sitting across from Eve, sharing simple moments and easy conversation, Vincent allowed himself to believe, if only for a little while, that he could have this—that he could be someone different, someone worthy of her trust.

"So, you mentioned you used to paint," Vincent said, his voice smooth yet carrying a touch of curiosity. He leaned forward slightly, his hand casually resting on the table. "Why don't you do it anymore?"

Eve smiled wistfully, a soft blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I suppose life just got in the way. It used to be my favorite thing—especially painting outdoors. Nature inspires me in a way nothing else does." Her eyes brightened as she spoke, and for a moment, Vincent could see the passion for her art flicker alive in her.

A spark lit up in his eyes as he leaned back, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, why don't we do something about that?" He paused, gauging her reaction. "How about we go painting tomorrow? I mean, there's nothing stopping us from enjoying nature and getting lost in the colors, right?"

Eve blinked, surprised by his spontaneous offer, and then her lips curved into a wider smile. His enthusiasm was contagious. "Painting? Together?"

"Why not?" he said with a shrug and a glint of excitement in his tone. "You're the artist, and I'm... well, I'll try not to mess up the canvas too much. Besides, I think it'll be fun. We could even make a whole day out of it. Lunch, nature, and art."