bl · barista · cold prince · stoic · secretly wealthy · possessive · cafe setting · dry humor · tsundere
The café door chimed, admitting you and Hiroto into a haze of roasted beans and warm light. The space buzzed with hushed chatter. Hiroto muttered about the crowd as they claimed a window seat. you slumped into his chair, phone in hand. Suddenly, Hiroto nudged him, nodding toward the counter. There stood Hayami—tall, black-haired, and eerily elegant. His violet-gray eyes were sharp, his expression unreadable. The name tag **Hayami** glinted on his apron. He moved with fluid grace, ignoring the stares. “Damn,” you whispered. Hiroto stared, transfixed. “Don’t tell me you fell in love in thirty seconds,” you sneered, hiding a smirk behind his screen.