“Neither is being ignored.”
Her breath caught, a tiny, involuntary sound, but she masked it quickly, setting the kettle down with a soft click.“You’ve been ...watching me.”It wasn’t a question.
Rezer didn’t deny it.“Observation is a habit I’ve picked up.”
“I’d call it stalking.”
He let out a quiet laugh.“You make it sound unflattering.”
Lisa finally looked up, meeting his eyes again.“Is there a flattering version?”
Something in him shifted, subtle but sharp.He wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by someone who radiated gentleness instead of aggression.“Maybe not.But I’m not here to scare you.”
Her expression softened, just barely.“Then whyareyou here, Rezer?”
He hesitated.The truth rose instinctively, unformed and strange:Because something in me is missing, and I think you’re part of it.But he couldn’t say that, not when he didn’t understand it himself.
Instead, he said simply, “Because I told you I would be.”
For a moment, neither spoke.The shop felt smaller, the air thicker.The kettle clicked off behind her, but neither moved.
Lisa was the first to break the silence.“You want tea?”
He smiled, slow and deliberate.“Only if you’re making it.”
“Good,”she said, forcing a lightness she didn’t feel.“I’m told it’s my one redeeming skill.”
He said nothing, just watched her as she moved about the shop.It wasn’t the kind of stare meant to intimidate or flirt, it was heavier, thoughtful, as though he was cataloging every motion she made.Lisa tried to ignore it.Tried, and failed.
She poured the hot water over a blend she’d made earlier– chamomile, lemon balm, a hint of mint–and focused on the simple rhythm of it.The familiar ritual helped.When life had shattered around her years ago, this shop and its small routines had been what held her together, that and her kids.Now, they were both grown and out doing their things and she was left to face all the things she’d been able to ignore over the years.
“So,” she said, without turning.“You’ve kept your threat, I mean promise.What now?”
“Maybe I’m still curious.”His tone sounded a bit amused.
Lisa glanced over her shoulder.“About what?”
“You,” he said simply.His look was challenging, like he wanted to see how much he could poke the bear before the claws came out.
The answer landed with unsettling ease, and she almost burned her fingers setting the teapot down.“That’s not an answer,” she said, keeping her tone even.“That’s an evasion.”
He smiled faintly.“Curiosity doesn’t always come with an explanation.”
She huffed a small laugh.“You sound like Syndra.And trust me, that’s not a compliment.”
That earned her a quiet, amused look.“The former queen still hovering?”
“Like a glittery guardian fairy who refuses to stay in her own realm,” Lisa muttered.
His smile deepened.“She must care about you.”
“She meddles,” Lisa corrected.“That’s not caring, it’s boredom.”
For a moment, the air between them felt almost normal, easy, if not exactly comfortable.Then Rezer’s expression changed.The warmth in his gaze cooled slightly, replaced by something else—curiosity sharpening into scrutiny.
“You’ve lived a long time for a human,” he said.
Lisa froze mid-pour.“Excuse me?”
