Sophia was just about to reach for the last dark chocolate bar when a pair of jade-like hands entered her line of sight... pale, smooth, with faint green veins tracing beneath flawless skin.
Long, slender fingers, the kind that looked like they belonged in a museum behind glass.
Hands so graceful, they seemed sculpted by divine intention... fit for a hand model, or perhaps a pianist who played souls rather than keys.
Her only coherent thought was:
"Sh*t. My chocolate."
Her gaze, helplessly drawn, followed those mesmerizing hands upward and crashed into a pair of eyes so dark and fathomless, it felt like falling into velvet night.
Humanity's greatest creation. That ridiculous phrase appeared in her head uninvited, but she didn't dare laugh.
He was beautiful. Dangerously so. A kind of beauty that made people forget their good sense. Feminine in perfection, masculine in presence. The kind of face that could sell fantasies or start wars.
He had a calm, jovial air, but with a subtle undercurrent that screamed: "Look, but don't touch." His neatly gelled black hair didn't hold a single rebel strand, too perfect, too deliberate.
The man looked like a secret.
'Ah, Sophia, get it together!' she panicked inwardly. 'So what if you're face-to-face with a man carved by angels? It's normal to feel... something after a breakup. But don't just stand here like a blushing idiot. Say something! Anything! Show dominance!'
"Chocolate."
That was all her brain managed to produce—uttered in a breathier tone than she intended, her eyes still locked on those mesmerizing black irises.
Eyes that seemed to hold her, as if daring her to look away. She couldn't. And the longer their gaze held, the more erratic her heartbeat became, echoing in her chest like thunder.
He tilted his head slightly, amused, and asked in a voice like velvet dipped in warm wine, "Yes?"
The rich baritone melted over her skin, pooling heat low in her belly. Sophia felt a blush bloom across her cheeks, uninvited and unwelcome.
"I had picked the chocolate first," she finally said, though her voice came out softer, gentler than she meant. She cursed herself for sounding so timid.
Then he chuckled.
It wasn't loud, it was low and smooth, the kind of laugh that tugged at invisible strings inside her chest. God, even his laughter sounds expensive.
"Then I'll have to disappoint you," he replied slowly, each word deliberate and teasing. "I was the one who touched it first."
His lips curled into a knowing half-smile, and Sophia felt her rational mind slipping.
She was aware of the blush deepening on her cheeks, the electric buzz in the space between them.
But irritation flickered through the haze.
'Seriously? Can't he just be a gentleman and give it to me?'
"Sir, I was here first." Sophia emphasized the word 'first' as if it held divine authority.
"Good for you," the man replied coolly. "Now let go."
His voice was calm, but the challenge in his deep blue eyes was unmistakable, part warning, part amusement.
"Can't."
Her tone was firm, her gaze unwavering. There was no hint of a smile, no flirtation, just stubborn defiance.
'A feisty one, huh?' Keith mused internally, his thoughts drifting far too easily. Blonde hair, blue eyes, bold attitude.
He didn't usually repeat flavors, but perhaps… no. He mentally dismissed it. The one in front of him was too innocent. Too soft. She wasn't meant for the likes of him.
But that smug confidence cost him.
In one swift movement, Sophia yanked the chocolate bar free from his fingers, seizing her victory before he could react.
Her face lit up with a triumphant smile, adorable, even in rebellion. Innocence sparkled in her eyes, untouched by the shadows he lived in.
But she had crossed a line.
No one takes from Keith Greystone.
"Mister, you can wait for the next one," she said lightly, her pride evident.
But the moment her gaze met his again, her smile faltered.
The warmth in Keith's eyes had vanished. In its place, a chilling calm had settled over his features. His aura shifted, subtle but suffocating, like the stillness before a deadly storm.
'Danger.' The word blared in Sophia's head like an alarm.
She didn't need a second warning, but she got one anyway.
[Danger Detected. Assigning Agent Whiskers for Host Protection.]
'What?' she blinked in confusion.
And then, a sudden thud.
An orange tabby cat dropped from the sky.
Yes. The sky.
It landed gracefully on all fours in front of Sophia, as if summoned by divine absurdity. With perfect poise, it raised one paw and tapped lightly, almost politely, on Keith's polished brown leather derby shoe.
Keith looked down slowly.
The cat bared its tiny fangs and hissed, flashing its sharp teeth with a fierceness.