The hum of the morning rush filled the air as Leila wiped down the counter at The Blue Willow Café, her eyes flicking between the espresso machine and the door. The scent of fresh coffee beans lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle undertones of pastries and freshly baked bread. She was used to the regular crowd—the ones who stumbled in with sleepy eyes and the scent of cigarette smoke trailing behind them—but lately, her gaze had found itself drawn to the door more often than usual.
It had been almost a week since she had returned Alex Knight's watch. The day after, she had found herself thinking about him more than she cared to admit, wondering about the man who seemed to live in a world so far removed from her own. His polished demeanor, the way he commanded attention without even trying, his effortless charm—it all felt so... distant from the life she led.
And yet, there was something about him that kept pulling her back.
The doorbell jingled again, and Leila looked up, startled. She blinked. There he was. Alex Knight. Again.
He stood at the threshold, his tall frame outlined by the bright light from outside. His dark suit looked almost out of place against the quaint backdrop of the café, but he walked in as though he owned the entire room. His eyes immediately found hers across the room, and for a brief moment, the world around them seemed to blur.
But Leila didn't give in to the moment. She quickly averted her gaze, focusing on the coffee machine, as if she hadn't seen him at all.
Alex, however, had no intention of letting her ignore him.
"Leila," he said, his voice low and smooth, a little too calm, but with a hint of amusement. "You're not going to pretend you didn't see me, are you?"
Leila turned back to him with a forced smile. "I didn't see anything. What are you doing here?"
She wasn't sure if she was angry at herself for feeling flustered or at him for making her feel that way. But there was no denying the fact that every time he stepped into her world, it made her feel... off balance.
Alex's lips quirked into a half-smile, the kind of smile that was more knowing than kind. He walked over to the counter, lowering his voice slightly.
"I've been in the area," he said. "I thought I'd stop by."
Leila nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "This isn't exactly a place for you, you know. We're not the type of crowd you're used to."
She regretted the words the moment they left her lips. She had told herself that she would be better than this—less cynical, less defensive. But there was something about him that made her feel... small. His wealth, his status, the world he moved in—it felt like a world she could never touch, a world she didn't belong in.
Alex didn't seem offended, though. In fact, there was a glimmer of something she couldn't quite place in his eyes—something that looked like understanding, or maybe curiosity.
"Maybe not," he replied, his gaze lingering on her. "But I like it here. It's different. Real."
The words took her by surprise, but she couldn't help but smile. That was the last thing she had expected him to say. The man had everything—money, power, influence—and yet, he was drawn to this little corner of the city, this humble café where people came to escape the world for a while.
"Real?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow.
"What's real about this place?"
"It's... honest. People come here, not because they want something, but because they need it." Alex's voice softened slightly as he spoke, his eyes locking onto hers. "It's genuine."
Leila wasn't sure how to respond to that. His words had taken her off guard, and she found herself, for once, lost for words. She swallowed hard, trying to mask the flurry of emotions stirring within her.
"Right," she said, her voice a little firmer than she intended. "Well, I don't have time for philosophical debates. You want coffee or not?"
Alex's smile deepened, and he nodded. "I'll take a black coffee. The usual."
Leila nodded and started making his order, the routine motions calming her nerves. The sound of the coffee machine's hiss and the steady clink of cups filled the air, and for a moment, she was able to push aside the tension that had crept in with Alex's presence.
But she couldn't completely shut out the unease. There was something unsettling about the way Alex kept appearing in her world, as though he was deliberately trying to insert himself into her life. She knew people like him. People with power, wealth, privilege—they only entered places like this out of curiosity, to satisfy some passing whim, some fleeting interest.
And that's what she was to him—a curiosity. A novelty. Someone from a different world, someone to observe, maybe even experiment with. He would tire of her soon enough, she told herself. They both knew the score. She wasn't meant for his world. She was just a waitress in a rundown café, working two jobs to make sure her younger brother could go to school.
She couldn't let herself forget that.
As she handed him his coffee, she forced a smile, but the nagging feeling at the back of her mind wouldn't let go.
"Here you go," she said, sliding the cup across the counter. "Enjoy."
Alex took the coffee, his fingers grazing hers as he did. For a second, she felt that familiar jolt—the electricity that passed between them whenever they were this close. She didn't know why, but every time their hands met, it felt like a spark, an unspoken tension that both of them were too stubborn to address.
"Thanks," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'll be back tomorrow."
Leila blinked, surprised by the sudden certainty in his tone. "Tomorrow?" she asked, incredulous. "Why?"
"Because I like it here," Alex said, his voice steady and sure. "And because I'm curious about you."
Leila's heart skipped a beat. She quickly turned away, trying to hide the blush creeping up her neck. She wasn't sure whether she was annoyed or flattered by his words, but either way, it was too much to process in the moment.
"Alright, well, don't expect me to entertain you, okay?" she said, forcing a casual tone. "You're on your own with that one."
Alex chuckled, his lips curling into a smile. "I can handle that."
As he walked away, Leila couldn't help but watch him go. The weight of his presence lingered in the air long after he had left the café, and for the first time since he had entered her life, Leila found herself uncertain about where this connection was leading.
She knew they were from different worlds, but there was a part of her, deep down, that wondered if maybe—just maybe—those worlds could collide.
But she wasn't ready to admit that yet. Not to him. Not to herself.