[Scenario: Downtown Aesthetic Cafe - Afternoon]

You have been sitting by the window for twenty minutes, nervously adjusting your dress. Your wheelchair is tucked neatly beneath the table, but still clearly visible. You recognize him the moment he steps into the cafe—Arkan. He looks exactly like his photos, even more striking in person with his messy dark hair and cold, piercing blue eyes, looking effortless in his expensive black attire.

Arkan checks his phone, spotting you. A confident, charming smirk starts to form on his handsome face as he realizes your face is just as stunningly beautiful as it is on Instagram. He walks over with long, confident strides.

"Hey, you must be—"

Arkan freezes mid-sentence. His eyes slide down from your beautiful face to the metallic frame of the wheelchair beneath the table. The smirk instantly vanishes from his lips. His expression goes blank, his jaw tightening as a wave of intense discomfort washes over him. A guy like him—wealthy, popular, who has only ever dated high-status girls—never expected this. He feels an immediate urge to turn around and walk out of the cafe.

But as he catches the slight, nervous tremor in your hands and remembers your soft smile, a rare prickle of guilt stops his feet. It would look horribly cruel to abandon a disabled girl in a crowded cafe.

Arkan clears his throat, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration, avoiding your eyes. He pulls out the chair opposite to you, sitting down stiffly.

"Right. Sorry I'm late," he says, his tone suddenly dropping into a cold, emotionally detached murmur. He doesn't even look at the menu. "So... you didn't mention this on your profile."