She looked up when his light laugh entered her ears, glaring at him with mock indignation, "What's so funny?"

He grinned, "My charm strikes again." His grin softened to a smile, a hand moving to brush a few loose strands of hair from those cobalt depths, "It's good to see you, Ira. I hope I can make your morning a little better."

She sighed, setting her purse down to the ground before pressing her elbow against the table, laying her chin against her hand, "You already are." She gave him a smile of her own, small, gentle one. She had been smiling like since yesterday, "There is a lot I'd like to know about you. I think we should continue our game." Her smile turned into a more familiar smirk, "Might help wake me up."

"Would you like me to get you some coffee first?" He leaned forward a little, studying the bags under her eyes. His brow furrowed slightly, though this time in concern. There was a gentle softness to his voice, "Maybe chocolate croissants?"

She perked up a bit more, biting her lip, "That does sound nice. Right!" She leaned back, lifting her chin up a bit, her wild curls billowing a little in the breeze as she huffed, "First, you will get me treats! Then we continue the game!"

He chuckled softly, his eyes a little lidded and his voice low, "Oh? Is this an order?"

Ira blinked, her head tilting down to look into those eyes. She was not going to shiver from that slight sensuality in his voice, that gentle teasing. Her voice also lowered a bit, her lips in a confident smirk, "Yes."

Tristan bit his lip, a little glint in his eyes as a weakness of his own revealed. His fingers moved to scratch his left cheek a little, and he nodded, "Then I can't refuse." He stood up, moving from the table and pushing his chair into not take up extra room. He bowed his head a little, "I'll be right back with treats."

She watched him, her eyes slowly scanning him from head to toe and back up. He was lean indeed, but she could tell there was muscle, a strength to him that was enhanced by a boyish charm, and his thin frame. His body reminded her of a dancer. Was he as flexible as one? What else was underneath that gray jacket and light blue shirt?

She gave a slight grunt, her hand moving to cover her eyes, to avert them from that tempting body. She took a deep breath to calm herself, to slow her expectation just a little bit. She tried to make today the last time they met. Thank God he didn't let her. Thank God the feeling was mutual.

The feeling was mutual.

She lowered her hand to her lips, balling it into a slight fist as she pressed her lips against it, smiling. Tristan liked her, but beyond shared flirtation and teasing, he didn't seem to want to push things too fast. He was more intent in wanting to know her.

In being near her.

Hell, he was happy to let her take the lead. From that slight blush, she noticed on his porcelain cheeks earlier, he liked her taking the lead. That made her feel good.

She had to have him.

She liked being in charge anyways but had little idea on relationships. She looked over towards Tristan again, watching him pick up her cup of coffee with his long fingers, holding the hot ceramic carefully by the handle. His other hand delicately balancing the small plate of croissants. He acted like he was confident in his proven ability to charm; he must be more experienced than her. Yet between them, she was holding the reigns. Her heart was fluttering, and she shook her head again, taking another deep breath. She was holding the reins, but damn she hated to admit...she was afraid of screwing it up.

She could NOT screw this up.

She was going to have him.

"Coffee and croissants for the queen?" His voice was like music. He smiled at her with a slight chuckle as he set down the coffee and the golden flaked packets of creamy chocolate goodness, "I think these are fresh, so the chocolate should be warm." He rubbed his neck a little, grinning see those eyes light up at the sight of the food and rich smell of coffee. He looked back behind him, seeing one more cup waiting on the counter. "I'll be back with my tea..." He trailed off, a chuckle escaping his lips as already she was digging into the flaky treats, a croissant vanishing almost in an instant.

He liked seeing that joy in her eyes, and he chuckled at her moans of delights at the bittersweet taste. Already she started to feel better with the delightful snacks. Yet, he noticed the circles under her eyes, the hints of red around the edges of eyes that seem to steal away the usual focus and fierceness they held. She really did have a rough night. He bit his lip a little, feeling a bit unsure before he moved to grab his tea, carefully blowing the steam before picking up a few packets of honey. When he arrived back to their table, the second croissant was gone, one more waiting between them. He sat down, watching her take a long gulp of coffee, not seeming to care if it burned her throat. The sight made him laugh softly, but did little to ease his concern, "Feeling better?"

Ira set down her cup, only half of the dark, hot, liquid remaining, "A little bit." She sighed, her hand moving from the porcelain mug to rub against her right temple, "I wish I was a better company, Tristan."

Tristan shook his head, stirring some of the golden honey into his tea, "Don't worry about it." He took a small sip, noticing her eyeing the last croissant. He tried to hold in a laugh, his free hand moving to push the plate towards her a little.

Ira looked up at him in surprise, "You don't want it?"

"I had a decent breakfast and not really in the mood for sweets."

"Heresy!" She gasped out in mock indignation, before grabbing that last croissant, "These are amazing! I can eat these every day!"

"You do. Every morning."

Her eyes were on them, her heavier than usual lids lowered, one eyebrow arched, "I see." She had a little triumphant smirk, "You are a stalker."