The bell above Della's café door rang softly as Kael stepped inside.
The air was filled with the smell of roasted beans, syrup, and toasted bread — the kind of warmth that reminded him of simpler mornings he could never quite return to.
He scanned the place and found her right away.
Lira sat by the window, her hands folded neatly over a cup of water, a thin paper coaster turning between her fingers.
She wasn't in her uniform today. Instead, she wore a light cream blouse, her hair loosely draped over her shoulders. The sunlight caught the faint strands of gold in it as she glanced toward him.
When their eyes met, she smiled — small, uncertain, but real. Kael returned it and made his way to her table.
"Hey," he said quietly, sliding into the booth across from her.
"Hi," she replied, her voice soft as ever, though her fingers fidgeted beneath the table.
He nodded toward the menu on the counter. "You order yet?"
She shook her head. "No, I was waiting."
Kael took a menu mostly for appearance. His focus, however, stayed on her.
After a moment, he said, "Nice place. You come here often?"
That drew a soft laugh from her, easing the nervous tension. "Only when Serin drags me. She says I spend too much time with screens and not enough with people."
He smiled at that. "Sounds like good advice."
"Maybe," Lira said, though she didn't sound convinced.
A waitress came over, took their orders, and left with the same practiced cheer found in every busy café.
Silence lingered for a while. Not awkward, just quiet — like both were still learning how to exist in each other's rhythm.
Soon the food arrived. Pancakes for her, an omelet and coffee for him.
"Thank you," Lira said softly to the waitress before carefully cutting into her food, as though afraid to make a mess.
Kael wasted no time digging in. "I missed food that actually tastes like food," he said between bites.
Lira smiled faintly. "Do you not eat much?"
He shrugged. "Not properly. I've been caught up in a project."
Her fork paused midair. "The one you mentioned before?"
He nodded. "Yeah. It's called Ardent. A system that tracks digital intrusions and isolates threats before they can do harm. Think of it like a guardian that never sleeps."
Her eyes widened slightly. "That sounds complicated."
"It is," he admitted, leaning back in his seat. "But it's the kind of challenge I live for."
There was a spark in his voice when he talked about his work, something that drew her in.
Lira tilted her head. "So you built this alone?"
"For now, yes."
"That's... impressive," she said, almost to herself. "Most people wouldn't even know where to start."
Kael smiled. "Most people don't try."
She looked down at her plate, her voice quiet. "Still, it takes a lot of focus."
He studied her for a moment, then said casually, "Actually, that's part of why I wanted to meet you."
Lira blinked. "Me?"
"Yes." He took a sip of coffee, watching her reaction. "I need help — and not the technical kind."
"Help?" she repeated, unsure. "I don't think I'd be much use with code."
"That's not what I mean," Kael said. "You understand how people think. You notice what others miss. I need that perspective."
She frowned slightly. "Perspective for what?"
"To shape this into something people will trust, something they'll actually want to use," he explained. "I can build it, but I can't sell it. Not without insight."
She stared at him, hesitant. "I'm not some business expert. I'm just... figuring things out."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "That's fine. Most people who make a difference start that way. I've seen the notes you've made at the shop. The layout changes, the suggestions to improve flow. They worked."
Her cheeks colored faintly. "That was just... practical thinking."
"Exactly," Kael said with a small smile. "Practical thinking is what keeps ideas alive."
Lira toyed with her fork, her gaze flickering to the window. "You're serious about this."
"I am," he said simply. "I want you to work with me. Think of it as an experiment. Learn as we go. No pressure."
She blinked, surprised. "Work with you? Like a partnership?"
"Call it whatever you like," Kael replied. "But yes, something like that."
For a long moment, she didn't speak. The sound of the café filled the silence — plates clinking, laughter in the corner, the hiss of an espresso machine.
Finally, she said quietly, "I don't know if I can be that person for you. I've never done anything like it."
He nodded slowly. "You don't have to be sure yet. Just curious."
That made her smile — a small, uncertain one, but it reached her eyes. "You really think I can help?"
Kael met her gaze, calm and steady. "I know you can."
She hesitated, then exhaled softly. "Alright... I'll try."
"That's all I need," he said, smiling at last.
For a while, they simply sat there — two strangers who, for reasons neither could explain, felt just a little less like strangers than before.