"The Fifth Whisper"

Her gaze flickered toward the kitchen, where Leon was still immersed in his work.

The sharp sound of a knife slicing through ingredients filled the space. His fingers moved swiftly, each cut precise.

But then, Leon's hands suddenly stopped. The knife froze against the wooden board.

A strange pressure coiled around him, something unseen yet suffocating. His fingers clenched around the knife handle, yet he didn't move.

His mind was elsewhere.

On him.

Leon's muscles tensed.

His hands moved, untying his apron. He tossed it onto the counter, his breaths coming out heavier than before.

A name echoed in his mind—one he hadn't heard in three years.

Without wasting a second, he stepped out of the kitchen.

The café bustled with life—chatter, clinking cups, the usual routine. But for Leon, everything blurred.

His eyes locked onto a single point.

The man sitting at the farthest table.

Lucian.

Draped in dark clothing. Silent, composed, brimming with an unsettling aura. His presence was like a quiet storm—unspoken, yet undeniable.

Leon kept moving forward, each step steady, but carrying an unspoken turmoil beneath.

Reaching the table, he stopped. His shadow fell over Lucian.

The air grew thick with tension.

"Why are you here?" Leon's voice was low, sharp.

Lucian didn't seem in a hurry. He picked up his cup, took a slow sip, then looked directly into Leon's eyes.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips.

"Is it strange for a customer to visit a café, Chef Leon?"

Leon's eyes narrowed. His muscles tensed, yet his expression remained unreadable.

From a distance, Siaara watched.

Something was wrong with this conversation.

She studied Leon carefully.

His entire demeanor had shifted, as if he was barely holding himself back from something far greater.

Then, suddenly— Lucian's gaze shifted.

From Leon… to Siaara. Her breath hitched.

He wasn't just looking. He was recognizing her.

His stare held more than mere curiosity. It was deeper. More knowing.

Lucian slowly rose from his seat, adjusting his jacket as he made his way toward the door.

Pausing for a moment, he turned slightly and spoke—his voice soft, yet unsettling.

"We've met before, Miss."

His words sent chills down Siaara's spine.

Her body went rigid. Her mind flooded with a thousand unanswered questions.

But before she could respond, the café door swung open.

The cold breeze rushed in, and with it, Lucian walked out.

Yet, the weight of what he had left behind lingered in the air.

Siaara took a deep breath, her heart still racing.

She turned toward Leon, searching for answers.

But Leon was still staring at the door, his jaw clenched, fists tightly curled.

As if Lucian's departure wasn't a relief… but the beginning of something far worse.

Then, without a word, Leon turned and stormed back into the kitchen.

And Siaara remained standing there, confused, unsettled, and surrounded by a storm of questions she didn't yet understand.

Please tell me your thoughts in the comments.