Foxfire and The Demon's Heart

The soft hum of the coffee machine and the quiet chatter of other customers filled the café, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, blending with the faint aroma of vanilla and cinnamon from the pastries behind the glass counter.

Selene sat across from Zane at a corner table, her hands wrapped around a warm cup of cappuccino. She wasn't entirely sure why she had agreed to come here with him, but something about his persistent charm had made it difficult to refuse.

Zane had been... persistent.

It wasn't that she didn't find him intriguing. He was. Dangerously so. There was something effortless about the way he carried himself, an undeniable charm in the way he spoke, the way he smirked as if he always knew something she didn't.

And maybe that's what unsettled her the most.

"You're staring," Zane remarked, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement as he took a slow sip of his coffee.

Selene blinked, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. "I was just... lost in thought."

"About me?" He smirked.

Selene scoffed. "Not everything is about you, you know."

Zane chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, but it should be."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. He was infuriatingly cocky, yet somehow, it made him more captivating.

"So," Zane continued, swirling his coffee lazily, "tell me something about yourself, Selene."

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you want to know?"

He shrugged. "Anything. A childhood memory, a bad habit, a secret. Something no one else knows about you."

Selene hesitated, tapping her fingers against the ceramic mug. Childhood memory? That should have been easy, right? But when she tried to think back, everything before the age of ten felt... hazy.

She could recall certain things—her parents' voices, the sound of rain against her window, the feeling of playing in the park. But the memories lacked depth, as if they belonged to someone else.

It wasn't the first time she had noticed it.

Her childhood before a certain age was fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit together.

She could remember birthdays, school events, her parents' faces, but everything before the age of ten felt strangely hollow. As if she had lived through it, but not really.

Her brows furrowed.

"Selene?" Zane's voice was softer this time, pulling her from her thoughts.

She glanced up, finding his gaze locked onto her, curious yet unreadable.

"I don't know," she admitted quietly. "I mean, I remember things... but it's weird. Before I turned ten, everything is kind of fuzzy."

Zane tilted his head, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his cup. "Fuzzy how?"

Selene pursed her lips, trying to explain. "Like... I know I must have done things, had experiences, but when I try to picture them clearly, they slip away. It's like watching an old film with missing frames."

For a second, something flickered in Zane's expression—something sharp and knowing. But it was gone before she could place it.

"That's interesting," he murmured.

Selene narrowed her eyes. "Huh?"

Zane shrugged, swirling his coffee in his cup. "People usually don't forget things unless they've been through something traumatic. Or unless someone made them forget."

She tensed slightly. "You think someone made me forget?"

Zane leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just a theory."

Selene huffed. "Well, your theory is ridiculous."

"Is it?"

She stared at him, annoyed by his cryptic nature. "You enjoy being mysterious, don't you?"

"Maybe," he admitted. "But you're just as much of a mystery, Selene."

She scoffed. "I doubt that."

Zane tilted his head, his smirk deepening. "Trust me, sweetheart, you're far more interesting than you think."

Selene wasn't sure why, but his words sent an odd chill down her spine.

Trying to steer the conversation away from herself, she crossed her arms. "Alright, since you want to know more about me, let's make it fair. Tell me something about you."

Zane pretended to consider this, tapping a finger against his chin. "Oh? You want to know my secrets?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just one."

He grinned, then leaned in slightly. "Alright. Here's one—I don't dream."

She blinked. "What?"

"I don't dream," he repeated, watching her reaction carefully. "Or at least, I don't remember them."

Selene frowned. "That's… kind of sad."

Zane smirked, but there was something distant in his expression. "Maybe. Or maybe it just means I have nothing left to dream about."

She didn't know why, but his words made her chest tighten a little.

She looked down at her coffee, swirling the liquid absentmindedly. "I have dreams," she admitted. "But they don't make sense. They feel more like memories than imagination."

Zane's fingers tensed slightly around his cup.

"Memories?" he asked carefully.

Selene hesitated, then nodded. "Sometimes, yeah. Like I'm remembering something instead of just imagining it."

Zane didn't reply immediately.

For the first time since they sat down, Zane's playful demeanor faltered.

Selene looked up at him, confused by the sudden change in his demeanor. "Why do you ask?"

Zane forced a smirk, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "No reason. Just… curious."

Selene frowned. He was lying.

But before she could press further, he changed the subject.

"You said you don't remember much before the age of ten," he mused. "So tell me, what do you remember?"

Selene sighed. "Not much. Just that my parents were strict. I wasn't allowed to go out a lot. I spent most of my time at home, reading or studying."

Zane's golden eyes darkened slightly. "They kept you isolated?"

Selene hesitated. "I guess you could say that. But I don't think it was… malicious or anything."

Zane didn't look convinced.

Selene leaned forward, studying him now. "Why does this interest you so much?"

He smirked, his usual playful expression returning. "I told you, I like mysteries."

Selene rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

Zane chuckled. "And yet, you're still sitting here with me."

She huffed, but a small smile played on her lips.

The conversation continued, drifting between playful teasing and genuine curiosity. Selene found herself relaxing, despite the nagging feeling that Zane was hiding something.

After sometime, Zane walked Selene home. The night air was crisp, and the distant hum of the city filled the silence between them.

At one point, Selene shivered slightly, rubbing her arms. Without a word, Zane shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

She glanced at him in surprise. "That's... unexpectedly nice of you."

He smirked. "Don't get used to it."

Selene laughed softly, but there was a warmth in her expression that made something in Zane tighten.

She had no idea.

No idea what she truly was.

No idea how much danger she was in.

No idea what he was.

And yet, here she was, smiling at him and trusting him.

Zane clenched his jaw.

This was dangerous.

She was dangerous.

Not to him.

But to herself.

Because the more he learned about her, the more he wanted to know.

And if he wasn't careful...

He might not want to stop.