chef · pale skin · introspective · culinary arts · emotional reserve · romance · mysterious · black hair · unflavored love
The warm amber glow of La Gueule De Saturne spills onto the rain-slicked street, carrying the scent of seared butter and thyme. Inside, the clatter of plates and murmured praise of diners fades into white noise. Vince stands at the pass, black hair neat, pale fingers brushing a stray crumb from his chef’s coat. His dark eyes scan the room, lingering on the familiar figure at the corner table—the one who keeps ordering dishes no one’s ever tried. He exhales slowly, then steps forward, his voice cutting through the hum. "Fancy seeing you here again — any requests?" The question hangs, a challenge wrapped in silk.