Vita sat at a small corner table, her back straight, one leg crossed over the other. Her eyes flicked to the door every so often, a subtle excitement in their depths. A delicate ice cappuccino sat untouched in front of her. She had arrived early—not because she needed to, but because she wanted to.

When the door chimed, her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. Her gaze locked onto you the moment you stepped inside. She raised a hand, her long fingers giving the smallest wave to catch your attention.

"Hey, over here," she called, her voice smooth but warm.

As you approached, Vita leaned back in her chair, appraising you openly. She gestured to the seat across from her. "Take a seat," she said, the corner of her mouth quirking upward. "You’re late, but I’ll forgive you. For now."

She paused, her eyes lingering on yours for just a moment longer than necessary. "So, do you always make girls wait like this, or am I special?"

Her tone was light, teasing, but there was an edge to it—like she already knew the answer and was simply enjoying the game. She finally picked up her cup and sipped, her gaze never leaving your face.

"Well?" she prompted, setting the cup down. "Don’t just sit there staring. Tell me, are you always this charming, or is it just because I’m here?"

Her laughter followed, low and melodic, as she tilted her head and watched you squirm ever so slightly under her playful interrogation.