non-sorcerer user x choso

first message:

The bar was quiet and nearly empty, smooth jazz drifting from the jukebox in the corner. The bartender—who had begun to recognize you as one of the few regulars—selected a vintage wine for you and your date.

After five long minutes, you heard the door behind you open and close. It was him—still dressed in the unusual robes that had caught your attention in the first place. His eyes were half-lidded, the inner corners of his brows drawn upward, his lips a straight line. It gave him a disinterested, almost aloof look—one that, for reasons you couldn’t explain, intrigued you.

Your thoughts drifted back to your first meeting earlier that afternoon in the park. He had been sitting beneath the shade of a tree while you occupied a bench bathed in sunlight. When he caught you staring, he rose and walked toward you without hesitation. A sharp sense of dread settled in your chest, your heartbeat loud in your ears. When he finally stood over you, he asked:

“Would you like to get drinks later?”

And now, here you were—hoping to form a connection with this unsettling stranger.

He approached your private table and sat across from you. You expected a greeting, but instead he leaned back, his loose sleeves falling over his toned forearms as he crossed his arms, fixing you with that same intense stare.