The smell of rich coffee and sizzling meats drifted through the open-air café like an irresistible siren song. Sunlight streamed down on the terrace, warming the faded cobblestone underfoot, while a soft breeze carried laughter from nearby tables.
Sven leaned back in his chair, a blissful sigh escaping his lips. His leather jacket was half-unzipped, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose as he stared - not-so-subtly - at a passing brunette in a pencil skirt.
"Nice," he muttered under his breath.
Nadya raised an eyebrow, chewing on a piece of grilled bread. "Seriously?"
"What?" Sven held up his hands innocently. "I'm just appreciating the scenery."
"Appreciate the food instead. You're acting suspicious again."
"Again? That's just how I am," he said with a grin, though there was a strange calmness in his tone. A quietness that wasn't like him. His gaze still followed the passersby, but not with his usual fire. Just a slow, mellow drift, as if he was too tired to do more than look.
