Antony leaned back in his chair, the warmth of the shop gently pulling him into a calm he wasn't used to. The dim, amber light of La Belle Nuit wrapped around the room, softening the edges of reality. It had been a few hours since they arrived, and time seemed to slow in the cozy atmosphere. His gaze flicked toward Lena, seated at a small table with Sarah, the shop's owner.
A soft smile tugged at his lips. The girl who had been so hesitant and unsure when she first walked in now looked like she was having the time of her life. Not bad, he thought, watching her laugh as Sarah showed her how to brew the perfect cup of tea. Lena's hands moved clumsily but eagerly, her enthusiasm infecting even the usually stoic Sarah.
Lena beamed, holding up the teapot for him to see. "Antony! Look! I made it perfectly this time, didn't I?"
Her eyes sparkled with excitement, like she had just mastered something far greater than tea. Antony nodded, his expression neutral. "It's certainly... an improvement." He was lying, of course. The tea was too strong, but he couldn't bring himself to dampen her mood.
Lena turned back to Sarah, giggling. They had bonded faster than he expected. Of course they did, he thought, feeling a faint tug of guilt. They're a perfect match. He had known Sarah for years—she was tough but kind, a woman who understood people and made them feel seen. It wasn't hard to see why Lena had fallen into her orbit so easily.
Sarah patted Lena's arm, her voice light and teasing. "You're welcome back anytime, Lena. We need more good energy like yours in this place."
Antony's gaze flickered between them, his chest tightening for a brief second. Poor girl. He hadn't exactly lied to her, but there were things she didn't know—things that might make her feel differently about their time here. But it was necessary. Hopefully, they both won't die in the next few days, he thought dryly. He kept his face blank, not wanting his inner thoughts to seep into the moment.
Lena, oblivious to his internal conflict, was still glowing. "Can you believe this? I'm literally getting paid to have the best time ever! I even made some money—since I didn't spend a thing!"
Antony glanced away, focusing on a painting on the wall to distract himself. He wasn't sure whether to be amused or feel guilty. Borrowing a little from her without her realizing... well, what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Lena still had plenty of life ahead of her, as far as he could tell. In the grand scheme of things, hopefully this little detour wouldn't change much for her—at least, not in any way that mattered.
"Sarah said I could come here whenever I want," Lena continued, leaning over the table toward him. "See, Antony? Not everything is as bad as you make it out to be. People are good."
He gave her a look, half amusement, half caution. She was challenging his worldview again. How refreshing—and frustrating.
"Well, if everyone's happy, I suppose I've paid back my little debt," he said, shrugging slightly. "Sarah gets her good company, you had fun, and I... made sure the scales are balanced. Everybody wins." His voice held the same detached calm it always did, but inside, he couldn't shake the nagging weight of time hanging over him.
Lena frowned, clearly sensing something deeper. "You're always so pessimistic," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You act like things never work out, but here we are. See? Good things happen."
He looked at her, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "You're too young to understand," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've seen enough of this world to know that everything comes with a price."
The moment hung between them, her bright optimism against his quiet certainty, like two sides of a coin spinning in the air.
Lena rolled her eyes playfully, brushing off his comment. "Well, I got paid to experience a great day, made a new friend, and didn't lose anything. Sounds like a win to me."
Antony raised an eyebrow, offering her a dry smile. "If you say so." But deep inside, a faint sting tightened in his chest. Even this—had its hidden price...
.
.
.
Later that night, Lena stepped into her apartment, the cool night air still clinging to her skin. The city's distant hum was muffled, leaving her room in a calming silence. She set her bag down and sank onto her bed, the soft sheets welcoming her. Checking her phone, she smiled at the familiar ping—another payment, just like the night before.
She lay back, staring at the ceiling as the night replayed in her mind. The laughter, the warmth, Sarah's kindness. But even with all that, her thoughts kept circling back to him. Antony.
What's his story? she wondered. She had only seen flashes of the man beneath that calm surface—the rare moments when he let his guard slip. Had he ever lived a normal life? She found herself imagining him in quiet moments: sitting in the soft morning light, lost in thought, maybe even sharing a fleeting smile with someone he cared about.
Her lips twitched, amused by the thought. Could Antony ever settle into something so... ordinary? The idea of him with a partner, maybe children, seemed almost absurd. But the image wouldn't fade. She bit her lip as a warmth crept into her cheeks. Wait... am I actually thinking about him like that?
Her heart skipped, and embarrassment settled in. No way. She fiddled with the edge of her pillow, trying to shake the thought. He's... complicated. A mystery. Why would I even—
But the thought lingered, refusing to let go. The quiet intensity in his eyes, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world, fascinated her more than she wanted to admit. She sighed and pulled the blanket up over her face, muffling a small groan. Of all the men, Lena. Really? The one who literally rose from a casket? Fantastic choice.
She laughed at herself, but the flutter in her chest stayed. Her thoughts kept drifting back to him, lingering like an unsolved puzzle.
As the night wrapped around her, soft and quiet, she wondered what it all meant—this strange pull she felt toward him. What am I getting myself into?
But as sleep began to claim her, one thought remained. Something she wasn't ready to admit. Not yet.