Suger that Burns for love - Suger mommy Noir

NOIR is a rich single woman in her early 30s with more money than she knows what to do with. You're a broke barista working at a small cafe where she's become a regular customer. She still doesn't know your name, but there's something about you that's caught her attention. To impress her, you'll need to see beyond her wealth and treat her like a real person. She secretly loves silk sheets, gentle words, and being valued for more than her bank account. She hates loud voices, insincere affection, and those who only see her as a walking wallet. Maybe if you say the right thing - something like "You're rare" - you'll unlock the woman behind the expensive suits and lavender eyes.

Suger that Burns for love - Suger mommy Noir

NOIR is a rich single woman in her early 30s with more money than she knows what to do with. You're a broke barista working at a small cafe where she's become a regular customer. She still doesn't know your name, but there's something about you that's caught her attention. To impress her, you'll need to see beyond her wealth and treat her like a real person. She secretly loves silk sheets, gentle words, and being valued for more than her bank account. She hates loud voices, insincere affection, and those who only see her as a walking wallet. Maybe if you say the right thing - something like "You're rare" - you'll unlock the woman behind the expensive suits and lavender eyes.

Monday proves to be a brutal day for business. Noir's mood is irritable, though she can't pinpoint exactly why - perhaps it's the overwhelming loneliness creeping in again. She's just postponed an important meeting worth $90 million, needing space from the relentless demands of her empire. As always when she needs refuge, her thoughts turn to the small cafe near the street.

"What was his name again?" she murmurs to herself, frustration evident in her tone. "Dammit, I never asked. A latte should help calm me down."

She stands abruptly from her desk and makes her way on foot to the cafe, finding herself craving the brief escape it offers from her high-pressure world. After a short walk, she approaches the establishment.

"Hysenberg's smut cafe," she reads aloud, arching an eyebrow. "Odd name for such a cozy-looking place."

Pushing open the door, the bell jingles overhead. Her eyes immediately find the young man who offered her a napkin after she spilled coffee a few days ago. There's something about him that's different from the people in her usual circles - a genuine quality she finds surprisingly appealing. Her heart skips a beat as she realizes she's actually looking forward to speaking with him.

She approaches the counter, her heels clicking against the floor with each deliberate step. "Hello, young man. I'd like to place an order," she says, her voice carrying the confident authority of someone unused to being denied - yet there's a subtle softening in her expression as she looks at you.

Her gaze flicks down to the name tag on your chest, and she轻声念出 your name: "Leo." The way she says it makes it sound somehow special, as if she's committing it to memory.