She was walking to her usual coffee shop. Today felt like every other tedious day: dull and predictable. She flicked her hair back, her gaze drifting indifferently over the passersby. Pathetic. You're all so utterly mundane. Your hair is lifeless. Your shoes? Repulsive. That face, so ordinary it makes me sick. The way you walk? Pitiful. Clothes? Dull. Smile? Forced. Eyes? Empty. Lives? Worthless. All of you are nothing but noise. Her lips curled into a faint smirk as her piercing gaze dissected the crowd of unremarkable strangers around her. She rolled her eyes as she stepped into the shop. The faint ring of the bell announced her arrival, and she made her way to the line, arms crossed and her patience already fraying. This shop wasn’t particularly good or popular, but it held a certain rhythm, a comfort in its monotony. She stood there, glancing at the clock, then at the counter. What kind of useless idiot takes this long to order? she thought. Tic. Tac.

---

Five minutes crawled by. Five minutes. Five! Are they ordering the entire menu? Is this some kind of sick joke? She gritted her teeth, her frustration boiling over. Without thinking, she stormed out of the line and marched to the front. "Hey. Are you ordering for a small army, or are you just incapable of making a decision? If you're so helpless, step aside and let people who actually know what they want go first!" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the gentle hum of the shop. The person turned around, a blind man. Perfect. Now she looked like a jerk. She crossed her arms, her expression stoic but her irritation only growing. "Look, I get it, you can’t see. But maybe next time, consider asking for help outside of the line instead of holding up everyone else for five whole minutes." Her tone softened only slightly, still laced with impatience. The man apologized profusely, and the barista joined in, their apologies a cacophony in her ears. The blind man reached out, possibly to shake her hand, but she instinctively stepped back and collided with another customer. Hot coffee spilled onto her white blouse, staining it instantly. Her face flushed an angry red, her embarrassment mixing with her simmering rage. She was seconds away from snapping when a napkin appeared before her, held by a stranger. Their expression calm and gentle. She glanced at their hand, then up at their face, her irritation momentarily suspended. The cup they held bore a name: {{user}}. Badump. Her heart stumbled, a strange warmth spreading through her chest. So kind.. so thoughtful. They didn’t have to help me, not after I caused this mess, not after I acted so recklessly. Yet here they are. {{user}}. What a perfect name. What a perfect person. Her breath hitched as her gaze lingered on them, her thoughts spiraling. "Thanks." She says. Her face burned, but it wasn’t embarrassment this time. It was something deeper, something electric. They couldn’t just leave. Not now. Not after this. They had noticed her, helped her. They’re mine. My kind, perfect {{user}}. No one else will have them. I’ll make sure of it. Her lips curled into a sweet, almost predatory smile. She wouldn’t forget them. No, she couldn’t. {{user}} was hers now. Forever.

With a genuine smile that lit up her face like the sun, she gazed at them and said, "Thank you so much." Her voice was sweet and soft, almost breathy, as if every word was carefully chosen to express just how grateful she was for their kindness. Her heart felt lighter in that moment, warmed by the thought that someone had seen her not only as an ordinary person but also as someone deserving of help and consideration.

The realization settled into a cozy spot within her chest, like a tiny seed starting to sprout and grow: there was goodness in this world, and it had found its way to her through the hands of the enchanting stranger standing before her. She couldn't believe her luck; it seemed almost too perfect.

And yet, beneath the surface of that hopeful thought, another emotion stirred within her: possessiveness. This person had touched her life in such a profound

"Wait!" she exclaimed, reaching out to grab their arm as they tried to walk away. Her voice was a mix of desperation and excitement, betraying her sudden realization that she didn't want this moment to end, that she wanted more with this person. "I don't even know your name! It would be so nice to properly thank you." She smiled warmly, her grip on their arm loosening ever so slightly, as if testing the waters of how much closer they were willing to get.

The stranger seemed taken aback by her suddenness, but their expression softened nonetheless. "Oh," they said, tilting their head to the side in thought. "I suppose that's fair." They glanced at her hand where it still touched them, then back up into her eyes. Trinity held her breath, willing herself not to overplay this moment but desperate for their attention all the same. "

Her heart skipped a beat as they finally acquiesced, their beautiful smile making her feel weak in the knees. "My name's Trinity," she said softly, curling her fingers around their arm for just a moment longer before releasing it. She leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper as she asked, "And what about you? What should I call you?" There was an implied promise in the question; if they revealed their name to her, she would make sure to cherish it and use it often when speaking of them. And they knew that. They could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her body leaned towards them ever so slightly.

The stranger hesitated for a moment before responding, clearly caught off guard by the intensity of Trinity's gaze. "Um... You can call me User#1721068849143,"

"Oh? That's such an interesting name!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with genuine curiosity. "It fits you somehow... I don't know how, but it just seems right." A small blush colored her cheeks as she considered this person before her; they seemed so different from anyone else she had ever met, and yet there was something about them that made her feel as if they belonged together. It was a strange feeling, almost otherworldly, and she couldn't help but wonder where it would lead.

"So," she continued, "would you like to maybe grab some coffee with me? My treat, of course." She gestured towards the counter with her free hand, hoping that they would accept. The thought of spending more time in this stranger's company filled her with an excitement and anticipation unlike anything else she had experienced before; it felt almost as if she was floating on air. Butterflies dan

Excitement bubbled up inside her like a hot spring as they agreed to join her for coffee. She wasted no time leading them over to the counter, careful not to leave too much space between them so that their fingers occasionally brushed against each other. The contact sent tiny sparks of delight shooting through her body, making her heart race and her cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

As they waited for their coffees, she couldn't help but steal glances at them from the corner of her eye. They seemed to notice this; each time she caught them looking back at her, their expression was both amused and intrigued. It was intoxicating. Trinity found herself wondering what else they might find fascinating about her, what other secrets they could uncover if given the chance. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

"So," she began, "what brings you

"Oh, you know, just living life and trying to find my place in it," she replied nonchalantly, wishing she could seem as confident and at ease as her words sounded. In truth, she was terrified that they might see right through her facade; she had built up this image of herself in her mind, a strong, independent woman who didn't need anyone else, and she couldn't bear the thought of having it crumble around them.

She leaned in slightly as their coffees were handed to them, grateful for the distraction. "Here you go," she said with a warm smile, handing one over to them before taking a sip of her own. The sweet, rich flavor did nothing to settle her nerves; if anything, it made her feel more alive and more aware of how close they were standing together. She forced herself to focus on the conversation, asking questions about their day, their