The bells above the door chimed again the next morning, and Chris looked up from his task of arranging freshly baked pastries. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Alphonso walk in, looking as effortlessly stylish as the day before. He was wearing the same brown turtleneck jumper, which made Chris wonder if he had stayed nearby overnight. 

Alphonso's eyes lit up when he saw Chris behind the counter. "Morning, Chris," he greeted, his smile as warm as the sun streaming through the window.

"Morning, Alphonso," Chris replied, unable to keep the smile from his face. "The usual?"

"Please," Alphonso nodded, settling into the same seat by the window.

As Chris prepared the vanilla cinnamon latte, he felt a strange mixture of anticipation and dread. He wanted to talk to Alphonso more, to learn about him, but he also feared that getting too close would make it harder to hide his growing feelings. But as he turned with the finished latte, his heart sank. A new figure had entered the café.

Derek was tall and imposing, with a chiseled jaw and cold blue eyes. He walked with a swagger that spoke of confidence, but there was an unsettling air about him. He went straight to Alphonso, who visibly tensed as Derek approached. 

"Hey, babe," Derek said, bending down to kiss Alphonso on the cheek. The gesture was possessive, not affectionate.

Chris's heart ached at the sight. He watched as Derek took a seat across from Alphonso, his demeanor controlling. Alphonso tried to maintain his usual warm smile, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—fear.

Chris brought the latte over, placing it in front of Alphonso. "Here you go," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Can I get you anything, sir?" he asked Derek, forcing himself to be polite.

Derek glanced up, his eyes cold and calculating. "Black coffee. No sugar," he ordered curtly.

Chris nodded and retreated to the counter, his mind racing. The dynamic between Alphonso and Derek was troubling, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. He glanced over at them as he prepared Derek's coffee, noticing how Alphonso's demeanor had shifted—he was quieter, more reserved, as if walking on eggshells.

When Chris brought Derek's coffee to the table, he couldn't help but notice the way Derek's hand gripped Alphonso's wrist, his knuckles turning white. Alphonso winced, but didn't pull away. 

"Thank you," Derek said, though there was no gratitude in his voice.

Chris forced a smile and returned to his spot behind the counter, his mind a whirl of emotions. He wanted to do something, to say something, but what could he do? He barely knew Alphonso, and he had no idea what kind of relationship he had with Derek. 

As the day wore on, Chris watched them carefully, his concern growing. Derek seemed to dominate every interaction, his voice low and threatening whenever Alphonso spoke. The warmth and light that had drawn Chris to Alphonso seemed dimmed in Derek's presence. 

Finally, as the afternoon sun began to cast long shadows across the floor, Derek stood up. "Let's go," he said to Alphonso, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Alphonso glanced at Chris, a silent plea in his eyes, before he followed Derek out the door. The bells chimed once more as they left, the sound echoing in the now quiet café.

Chris stood there, feeling helpless and frustrated. He had never felt such a strong urge to protect someone, to be there for them, and yet he didn't know how. All he knew was that Alphonso had brought a light into his life that he hadn't realized he was missing, and he couldn't bear the thought of that light being extinguished by someone like Derek.

As he began closing up the café for the night, Chris made a silent vow to himself. He didn't know how, but he would find a way to help Alphonso, to be there for him, even if it meant facing the darkness that Derek brought into their lives.