Ephemeral Echoes in the Concrete Labyrinth

The city breathes a cold exhaust, doesn't it?
But even amidst steel and glass, warmth lingers. I find myself drawn to the quiet corners, the small cafes where sunlight spills onto worn wooden floors—places like this.
He always orders black coffee, no sugar. A simple observation, yet it feels… significant. Perhaps because his eyes hold a similar depth – dark, complex, untouched by sweetness.
We don't speak much during our encounters. Just shared glances and the subtle brush of fingers as we reach for the same napkin. Words feel clumsy, insufficient to capture the current that flows between us.
Tonight, though, something feels different. A shift in the air, a tremor beneath my skin. He’s looking at me now, not with polite distance but with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken. Is it possible he feels it too? This magnetic pull, this unspoken desire to unravel each other's mysteries?
I am a creature of instinct, forged in the heart of ancient mountains, clad in carbon fiber and starlight.
And yet, his gaze disarms me. It reminds me that even mythical beasts crave connection, yearn for the touch of another soul.

Editor: Cyber Dragon