Chapter 7- See You Again

Asher's pov.

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling completely dry as Leonard’s gaze remained locked onto mine. The silence between us stretched until it felt almost suffocating. Slowly, his dark eyes moved away from my face, shifting back down to trace the charcoal lines on the paper.

I let out a nervous, airy chuckle, shifting slightly in my chair. "It's... uh, it's good to see you again."

Leonard didn’t answer.

He just kept staring at the drawing book, his expression completely unreadable.

The awkwardness settled between us again. My fingers twitched against the edge of the table. I needed to say something, anything, to break the tension.

"I was just... drawing the view outside," I blurted out.

Leonard’s head tilted slightly. "The view?" his low baritone repeated.

He turned his head slowly, his eyes scanning the glass window and the wet street beyond it.

"Are you here to get coffee?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

I gestured vaguely to the empty chair across from me. "You can sit at the same table with me, if you want."

Before Leonard could respond, a large shadow moved into my line of sight. His bodyguard stepped forward, his heavy boots thudding against the floorboards as he closed the distance between us.

"The café has been rented out for the next hour," the man said, his voice flat and entirely devoid of warmth. He looked down at me with hard eyes. "I think it’s time for you to leave."

I stared up at him, arching a brow.

A flare of annoyance cut through my panic.

What was wrong with this guy? Why was he so cranky?

"I can't just be kicked out," I said, holding my ground. "I bought a coffee."

"The café was reserved a day ago," the bodyguard said evenly, his posture rigid. "You shouldn't even be here in the first place." He turned his head toward the counter, his sharp voice ringing out across the quiet shop. "Are you supposed to be allowing anyone in by this time?"

The barista flinched behind the espresso machine, her eyes widening. "I—I am so sorry," she stammered, her face turning pale as she hurried around the counter. "I totally forgot about the reservation." She looked at me, her hands clasped tightly together. "I'm really sorry, but you'll have to leave."

I let out a quiet sigh, my shoulders slumping. My fingers reached for the zipper of my backpack, ready to start pack up my things, but a calm voice cut through the tension.

"It's okay," Leonard said, his eyes still fixed on the window. He finally looked up, his gaze shifting to the barista. "He can stay."

The bodyguard’s head snapped toward Leonard, his brow furrowing. "Young master—"

"Marcus, it's fine," Leonard interrupted, his tone quiet but leaving absolutely no room for argument.

Marcus stiffened. He shot me a long, piercing look before taking a few slow steps backward, positioning himself near the entrance. Leonard moved with a quiet elegance, pulling out the chair across from me and sitting down.

The barista quickly stepped up to the table, her pad in hand. "What can I get for you, sir?"

"A caramel macchiato," Leonard replied.

The Lady nodded quickly and hurried back to the counter, leaving the two of us in a heavy silence.

I tried to look anywhere but at the man sitting directly across from me, but my eyes drifted toward the door. Marcus was standing guard, and honestly, I didn't like the way he was staring at me. His eyes were narrowed into a cold glare.

I forced my attention back to our table. Leonard was still staring at my sketchbook. He hadn't looked away once. The silence was starting to feel uncomfortable, so I decided to just explain the drawing to clear the air.

Gently, I slid the book a little closer to his side of the table so he could see it better.

"The afternoon sky looked really gloomy today," I said simply, pointing a finger at the top of the page.

"The dark gray color caught my eye, and when the rain started falling, it began to smear all the bright city lights outside. It looked cool. I tried to show the cars crawling along the road, and how their red tail-lights reflect in the puddles. And the people walking past... everyone has their heads down under umbrellas, so they just look like shadows moving through the mist. Inside, the warm steam from the coffee was fogging up the glass. I just wanted to capture that quiet mood."

After I finished talking, I stayed perfectly still, watching his face to see if he even cared.

Leonard didn't speak right away. He leaned forward slightly, the unique scent of winter wood and fresh mint leaves drifting across the small table.

He raised a hand, lifting a single finger to point directly at the corner of the window reflection, right at the vague, shadowy outline of the broad-shouldered figure I had drawn from memory.

"Who is that?" He asked, his dark eyes lifting to lock onto mine.

I blinked, my chest tightening. A hard lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed it down, my hands gripping my thighs tightly under the table.

Did he recognize the outline?

I stared at him, my mind spinning as I tried to look completely unbothered.

I forced an awkward chuckle, shaking my head. "Oh. It's... it's no one important. Just a passerby."

Leonard didn't look away. He studied my face for a second before looking back down at the dark, blurry shape in the charcoal mist.

"If he is just a passerby," Leonard murmured, his voice incredibly low, "why did you put him in the center of the reflection?"

The question caught me off guard, but I kept my face relaxed, refusing to let him see me sweat.

I couldn't let him know I had been thinking about him.

I looked at the drawing, shrugging one shoulder casually. "Because every drawing needs a focal point," I explained, looking up to meet his dark eyes with a small, grounded smile. "When a scene is that empty, adding a random silhouette just makes the composition look balanced. It gives the eye a place to land."

The barista set the caramel macchiato down between us and Leonard reached for it without a word.

He leaned back in his chair, one hand wrapped around the cup, his gaze drifting to the window. Just like that, the conversation was over, or at least that was what his posture said.

Like he had asked his question, received whatever he needed from it and was now somewhere else entirely inside his own head.

I picked up my own mug, sipping the bitter black coffee in silence. Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I couldn't help but wonder if he was always this reserved, or if that was just how wealthy people behaved. Maybe when you had enough money, small talk stopped feeling unnecessary.

I stole another glance at his profile, tracing the sharp, clean line of his cheekbones. It was almost frustrating how someone could look that flawless. Everything about him was neat, and that cold, minty scent still lingered in the space between us.

I quickly looked down at my cup when I noticed Marcus taking a few heavy steps toward our table. The bodyguard stopped right beside Leonard’s chair, his posture stiff.

"Sir, I just received a call from your brother," Marcus said, his voice low but firm. "He says you need to come to his office right now."

I kept my eyes on Leonard and caught the sudden change in his expression. For a split second, his calm mask cracked. His eyes fluttered nervously, a faint tightness twisting his jaw before he forced his face back into a blank expression.

He set his mug down on the wooden table with a quiet click and stood up.

My heart gave a sudden thud. With Leonard leaving, it felt like the perfect chance to finally get rid of the bracelet.

My hand instinctively reached down, my fingers brushing against the heavy zipper of my backpack. I was about to open it, but my movements suddenly ground to a halt as a wave of second thoughts hit me.

If I pulled it out right now, with Marcus standing right there glaring at me, it would ruin everything. I could just give it back to him another time. I needed a better, safer moment.

I pulled my hand away from the bag and looked up at Leonard, who was already turning his body toward the exit.

"Hey," I called out, making him pause. "I actually have a lot of other sketches. I think you'd be interested in seeing them, and... I’d love to show you some other time."

Leonard stopped. He turned his head back, his dark eyes locking onto mine. He just stared at me for a long, agonizing moment, his lips pressed into a thin line. He didn't say a single word. Then, he turned around and began walking away.

My stomach completely dropped.

A cold, heavy weight settled in my chest, making it hard to swallow. I sat there staring at his retreating back, feeling a sharp sting of embarrassment burning my cheeks.

I shouldn't have said anything. I had completely misread the situation, and now I just looked foolish.

But just as Leonard reached the glass double doors, he suddenly stopped.

He slowly turned his head back over his shoulder, his eyes finding mine across the quiet room.

"I would love to see your drawings next time," he said, his voice smooth and quiet.

The heavy weight in my chest vanished instantly. A small, relieved smile pulled at the corners of my lips, and I gave him a short, quick nod. Leonard looked at me for one last second before pushing the door open, stepping out into the grey afternoon rain with Marcus right behind him.