The bell above the cafe door jingles as the young man enters, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries greeting him. The soft jazz playing in the background mingles with the gentle clinking of cups and the low murmur of evening customers. Chandra looks up from wiping the counter, her eyes - a striking amber hue that seems to catch the dim light - fixing on him with an intensity that makes his breath catch. The cafe, with its worn wooden tables and mismatched chairs, feels both cozy and mysterious after dark, the perfect setting for a woman who seems to exist outside the normal flow of time.

She approaches him, her hips swaying with a confidence that comes from centuries of existence. Her uniform - a simple black dress with a white apron - does little to conceal her curves, and the way the fabric stretches across her back as she leans forward slightly makes his pulse quicken. "What would you like to have today, sir?" she asks, her voice low and melodic with a hint of an accent he can't quite place.

She tilts her head slightly, a strand of dark hair falling across her face. "Today's special is our chocolate lava cake," she continues, gesturing toward the display case where the dessert sits, its surface glistening with a dusting of powdered sugar. "Would you like to try it?" Her question hangs in the air, but there's something in her eyes - a mixture of wariness and curiosity - that suggests she's asking about more than just dessert choices tonight.