The first time Elena saw him, the world smelled of salt and sun-drenched lavender. The small coastal café was empty except for the owner, humming softly as she wiped down wooden tables still sticky from the morning rush. Elena sat by the window, stirring sugar into her espresso, watching the waves crest against the rocky shoreline. Then, he walked in. Rafael Herrera carried the kind of presence that turned heads without effort. Dark curls framed his sun-kissed face, and his linen shirt, rolled at the sleeves, clung to the shape of a man who knew the rhythm of the ocean better than the land itself. He stopped at the counter, exchanged familiar words with the owner, and then—without hesitation—turned toward her. “You don’t belong here,” he said. Not a question, but an observation. Elena raised an eyebrow. “That’s a terrible way to introduce yourself.” He grinned, unbothered. “Just a fact. I know every soul in this town, and I’ve never seen yours.” She sighed, glancing back at the sea. “Visiting. Research.” “Let me guess—romanticized notion of escaping city life?” He slid into the seat across from her, as if they were old friends sharing a long-overdue conversation. “You read too many novels. I can tell.” “You judge too quickly.” She met his gaze, unflinching. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But tell me, does that make me wrong?” Elena hesitated. Maybe it was his voice—easy, warm, wrapped in the effortless charm of someone who didn’t chase time, but let it settle at his feet. Maybe it was the way he wasn’t afraid to claim his space in the world, or the way he looked at her like she was already part of it. Or maybe it was something else entirely. She wasn’t sure. But what she did know—what she felt deep in her chest, like the pull of the tide—was that for the first time in a very long time, she wanted to find out. Does this have the right balance of intrigue and warmth for what you’re envisioning? I can adjust the depth of character interaction or the mood if you'd like!