"To become a third girlfriend, of course!!"

Leo nearly choked on his tea, the warm liquid slipping into his windpipe and making him cough, spluttering in a way that only made his cheeks burn brighter.

With his face burning red, he hissed in a low whisper, "What the hell?" desperate that nobody else heard.

Azrael just shrugged, a wicked smirk curling at her lips, "What? You thought I was joking before?" She leaned closer,

"I'm not playing games. I'm a thousand percent certain... I'll be your girlfriend, no matter what it takes. Don't think you can escape."

He let out a deep, tired sigh, but his lips, despite his disappointment, curled up ever so slightly at the edges. Of course, Azrael caught the movement, her sly smile deepening. She leaned in again,

"Come on, be a good boy and tell me—how do I seduce them too?"

Leo's face went flat.

Azrael blinked up at him, "What? You managed to seduce them, right? Surely you have some juicy tricks that could help me win their hearts... and yours."

He gave her another long, deadpan look. In a hushed, conspiratorial tone, he explained the twisted mess of his relationships, voice soft enough that only she could hear.

When he finished, Azrael's mouth fell open, shock blooming across her face.

"So it's them who confessed to you, not the other way?" Her gaze sharpened, eyes running over him, "Damn, man… You sure play the innocent, but you're dangerous under that act…"

There was judgment in her stare, but also a glimmer of wicked amusement.

Leo gave her an awkward smile... unable to truly answer her accusations. But then his eyes glinted, and he smirked, mouth pulling up with smug pride.

"Well, what can I say… women just tend to fall for me. I barely have to lift a finger~" His voice had a rough edge, the pride in his tone unmistakable.

Azrael's lips trembled as she tried not to laugh, shaking her head with an exaggerated sigh.

"So much self-boost for someone who's still afraid to say yes to me." Her eyes narrowed, hungry and sly. "Yet, you took two girlfriends, and still you keep me waiting?....

Or are you saving the best for last?"

Leo shrugged, "It's not like I chose... It's their decision, not mine-"

"KYAA!"

Suddenly, a wave of noise crashed from the counter.

A cluster of girls squealed, all eyes locked on a student at the bar's far end... a tall, dark-haired boy, sleeves rolled high, moving with the wild grace of a stage performer. He spun bottles, metal shakers flashing in his hands, flipping fruit slices and catching them with practised ease.

The girls gasped with each impossible trick, feeding on the show.

Azrael's eyes narrowed, arching a brow, "That's impressive." She let her gaze roam, "Not bad for a kid. Surprising to see so much talent."

Leo caught the direction of her gaze... snap!... a flash of something ugly twisting inside him.

"Nah, his movements are sluggish. Too tight."

Azrael's attention snapped back, eyes widening as she caught the edge in his voice... calm on the surface, but laced with something deeper.... Jealousy?

Ba-dump!

Her heart skipped, a pulse of excitement fluttering through her. She leaned forward, letting her blouse dip low, the curve of her cleavage exposed just for him. Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered,

"Don't pout, darling. My eyes are only for you. I love when you get possessive~"

Leo only shrugged, "I'm not pouting… I'm telling the truth. He's stiff... posture's all wrong for the job." His annoyance simmered, but only Azrael could hear the true meaning behind his words.

'He's trying so hard not to get jealous~ So adorable~' she thought, biting back laughter.

Leo tried to ignore the heat coiling in his chest, uncertain why he felt so wild about it.... why, even when she swore her gaze was only his, the thought of her looking at anyone else felt so wrong.

But as she smiled, her sly amusement, he realised he wanted to be the only one who saw her like this... the only one she teased, touched, or drove mad with a single look.

"Look at his hand… It's trembling, and his movements—they're shaky. And even more, the mixing he's doing… what the hell is that? Isn't this supposed to be a café?

Since when did it become a bar?" Leo fired off questions, his voice hard, almost too quick.

But in Azrael's eyes, all she saw was a boy desperately pouting for his mother's affection.

Her lips curled up, unable to hide her amusement.... he was trying so hard to bury his jealousy, and it was painfully, adorably obvious.

So cute~

Noticing the smug, secret smile growing on her face, Leo's nerves lit up. He knew she didn't believe a single word he said, and somehow, that made his annoyance burn hotter, deep in his chest.

"I'll show you what a real performance looks like," he muttered, his voice suddenly serious, jaw clenched.

Azrael blinked, genuinely surprised by the sudden fire in his eyes. "O-OI! I believe you~" she said, though her tone was sly and her eyes sparkled, clearly getting a wicked thrill from the whole situation.

But for Leo, her teasing only made it worse... like she was mocking him, belittling him, not believing in him at all. He frowned, frustration darkening his expression as a slow-burning anger built up inside.

She did believe in him, really. All it took was a glance at the other boy for Leo to get riled up.

But it wasn't jealousy aimed at the trembling show-off behind the counter. No—it was a gnawing frustration with himself.... Like he'd failed some secret test.

"My baby's really possessive, isn't he~?" she mused, her voice bright with happiness, barely able to contain herself.

She was floating—utterly over the clouds. If not for the crowded room, she would have leapt across the table and rained kisses all over his brooding face until his possessiveness burned so deep that he could only ever think of her.

That was the feeling surging in her chest... Nothing in this world could compare!!

Leo didn't answer. He pushed up from his seat and strode toward the counter, a storm gathering in his eyes. Every pair of eyes in the café followed his path as he moved past the group of giggling girls and planted himself squarely in front of the boy, who was still fumbling awkwardly, hands trembling as he juggled the shaker.

"Are you fucking masturbating back there?"

Leo spat, his tone sharp and furious.

The entire café froze. Shocked gasps rippled through the room; the boy nearly dropped his shaker, eyes wide with terror, and the girls' faces twisted into horrified frowns.

Even Azrael's mouth dropped open, utterly stunned at the raw, shameless words that just erupted from Leo.

'That's… fucking awesome~'

Her thoughts went hazy, eyes growing even more dreamy as she watched Leo's anger ignite.

She'd never seen this side of him... a wild, dangerous beast prowling beneath the surface, desperate for her attention.

She swallowed hard, throat dry, not caring what he called the other boy or how brutal his words were. She just wanted to see more of that jealous fire, wanted to keep stoking it until he could only look at her.

Leo rolled up his sleeves, the room tensing as everyone expected a fight to break out.

But instead, he locked eyes with the boy and said coldly, "Give it to me. I'll show you how it's done."

He leapt in with a fluid, elegant movement. The boy stepped back, startled, surrendering his spot and the shaker.

Leo's voice dropped, quiet but deep, "This isn't just some job you do. It's about elegance.

Love for what you create."

He paused, breathing in, then slowly surveyed the tools laid before him: polished metal shakers, crystal tumblers, a bowl of cracked ice, lemon slices catching the light, tall bottles filled with jewel-bright syrups... each one shimmering with possibility in his hands.

His fingers found their rhythm, a smooth, hypnotic tempo only a master could summon.

He scooped ice, flicking the scoop in a flashy arc, catching it behind his back as if the metal itself obeyed him.

Without missing a beat, he poured with one hand, spun a glass in the other... every movement so fluid and precise, it seemed to blur the line between magic and skill.

Azrael blinked, taken aback by his sudden elegance... the air around him shifting as if he'd become someone else!

Drawn like a moth to a flame, she rose from her chair and glided closer, unable to tear her gaze from his hands. She watched the way he moved: not just with confidence, but with a sensual, liquid grace, as though he was the current and the bar was his river, pulling everyone along for the ride.

He was guiding them... every eye, every breath... without a single wasted motion.

The boy, who had only moments ago clumsily played the part of bartender, now stood frozen, wide-eyed. He stared at Leo's movements in awe, the stiffness and awkwardness he'd shown himself a glaring contrast to the flow Leo created... an artistry that only years of practice, patience, and passion could produce.

Clang~Clang~

The spoon danced across Leo's knuckles, flipping and twirling as if alive. The shaker tumbled through the air, glinting gold and silver in the café's muted light, and he caught it with a cocky flourish, the crowd spellbound.

He poured the tea and syrup in a single, flawless, whisper-thin stream, never spilling a drop.

He twisted, quick as a serpent, plucking a lemon slice with his teeth, slicing it clean in a single flick, letting it fall with a soft, deliberate splash into the drink.

For a heartbeat, the café held its breath. Even the servers stopped mid-step, drawn in by the unexpected performance.

But Leo wasn't done. His hands never slowed, forearms flexing as he scooped, twisted, and mixed.

The skin stretched, muscles coiling, veins standing out.... The veins bulged, thick and prominent, and every girl in the room, even some boys, felt their throats go dry.

A few couldn't help but swallow hard, Adam's apples bobbing visibly.

As he poured it, he spoke, voice low and smooth, "What I'm making," he said, "isn't just a drink. This is something older... a tradition born from the Silk Road, where tea and citrus first met under the stars.

Travellers would gather at twilight, each searching for comfort, for warmth, or for a moment of sweetness in their journey."

He spun the glass, letting the liquid catch the light, his eyes fixed on the ingredients as if seeing them anew. "They called it the 'River Dream,' because every sip was supposed to remind you of home.... cool, sharp, with a promise of Mother's love."

He lifted the shaker, pouring again with a flourish.

"But history means nothing if you don't pour love into it," he added, his voice softer now, as if sharing a secret only for Azrael.

The crowd stared in awed silence, even the usually loud girls at the bar pressing hands to lips, cheeks flushed.

Every step, every pivot, every elegant motion was so sensual, so focused, it made hearts flutter and knees weaken.

Azrael couldn't breathe. Her chest was tight, pulse thrumming, her lips parted. Leo was completely lost in the moment, moving as if guided by music only he could hear, passion and love lighting up his face.

He finally set the drink on the bar with a practised slide, sending it spinning across the polished wood until it stopped perfectly in front of Azrael, who had drawn near, her eyes wide with longing and shock.

He looked up at her...

"This—" he said, voice low and intimate, for her alone,

"—is for you. Taste it. And tell me if anyone else could ever make you feel this way."

The whole room seemed to vanish, the crowd forgotten, the world pausing in awe.

Azrael's hand trembled as she reached for the glass, every nerve alive, her body singing with the thrill of being chosen—wanted—by him.

So hard~ so romantic~ so raw~~

Gulp~

"HMmm~"

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