A Collision of Worlds

The bell above the café door gave a cheerful little chime, the kind of sound that usually made Mia’s heart lift. She loved that noise. It meant customers, it meant warmth, it meant she wasn’t running this tiny place just for herself.

Balancing a tray of pastel-colored cupcakes in her sweater-sleeved arms, she spun around toward the entrance. “Welcome to Sugarbean Café! Today’s special is—”

Her voice caught mid-sentence.

The woman who had just stepped inside was unlike any customer Mia had ever seen.

She had long, ink-dark hair that fell sleekly down her back, so straight and flawless it looked like it had been cut from moonlight. Her navy dress hugged her figure with elegant precision, and the faint click of her heels against the wooden floorboards echoed like judgment itself. The entire café seemed to pause for her entrance. Even the ceiling fan, which had been making a low rattling sound for weeks, suddenly felt too loud.

Mia blinked once. Twice.

“Oh… wow, you’re—uh—tall.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she immediately winced. Smooth, Mia. Real smooth.

The woman’s eyes, dark as midnight glass, swept over the café with chilling calm. When they landed on Mia, the effect was so sharp it made her throat tighten.

“Messy,” the woman said at last, her tone precise, each syllable deliberate.

Mia blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Your counter,” the woman explained, gaze flicking briefly at the trays of pastries and the colorful scatter of napkins. “And… your sleeves. Very unhygienic.”

It wasn’t just the words—it was the casual certainty behind them, like she was delivering a fact, not an opinion.

Heat rushed to Mia’s cheeks. “My sleeves are cozy. Cozy is important. Some of us like being human instead of… I dunno… a corporate ice statue.”

The woman’s expression remained unreadable, though the faintest twitch of an eyebrow betrayed irritation.

“I didn’t come here for childish banter. I came to see if this café has anything worth tasting. But if presentation reflects the quality of the food…”

“Oh, it does,” Mia cut in quickly, lifting her chin. “Which means you’re about to get the sweetest surprise of your entire life. Who knows, you might even… smile.”

Silence fell between them like a curtain. The café’s background chatter blurred, the clink of mugs and chatter of regulars fading under the weight of the moment.

Then the woman shifted, one manicured hand brushing back her midnight hair. The faintest curve tugged at her lips—not quite a smile, more of a provocation.

“I don’t smile for amateurs.”

Mia’s tray nearly tilted as her grip faltered.

This woman. She was infuriating. Absolutely unbearable. And yet—her presence pulled at Mia like gravity. Her words stung, but her voice lingered in her ears longer than it should have.

She wanted to throw frosting straight at that perfect hair. She wanted to wipe that smug look off her face.

But more than anything, she wanted to prove her wrong.

Enemies, Mia told herself. Definitely enemies.

And yet, as their eyes locked again—hers stubborn and fiery, Yuri’s cool and composed—something unspoken simmered in the air. A spark, dangerous and inevitable.

This battle had only just begun.

———

To be continued…

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