Elise leads them to a corner booth, a place that's both secluded and intimate. One could wonder what has and will unfold in that corner.

Aris looked surprised but pleased and nervous. But once seated, most of his worries seemed to sink into the booth itself.

"This feels right," she said, sliding into their booth, immediately relaxing in a way that made Aris realise how tense she'd been before.

"The food does smell incredible," he agreed.

"No, I mean..." She paused, trying to find the words. "This. Just sitting somewhere nice with someone who doesn't want anything from me."

The honesty in her voice caught him off guard. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Besides," she sat up straight. "Relaxing isn't on the agenda, but this menu sure is!" she exclaimed as she began absorbing the menu's contents. "Trust me on this," Elise said, already studying the menu with the focus of someone on a mission. "The callos is next level, and the escabetche will touch no prossie can—" the slang made Aris burst out a laugh. "—it is foolproof!"

"Better than a prossie? I'll be the judge of that," Aris said, watching her face light up as she gorged on the menu's images with her eyes.

When had someone last cared enough to pick out food for him? When had anyone been this excited to share something they loved? The thought should have felt overwhelming, but instead it felt like relief. Maybe I won't forget the same feelings I've felt before.

The way she asked — checking, caring, taking charge — gave that homey feel Aris had almost forgotten in the months leading up to the departure of his estate.

As if to spawn in, the waitress, a brunette with skin as sun-kissed as if it had just come off the beaches of Cancun, stood by their table, asking for their order. Elise took charge, ordering two of what she had suggested burritos and escalivada to keep things healthy, then glanced at Aris. He nodded his acceptance.

Conversation about cuisine and food continued as they waited for their plates to arrive. From the sheer quantity, it had taken over half an hour, with the kitchen at full operational capacity for the first time in months, maybe years.

When their plates arrived, the conversation flowed as easily as the rich, complex flavours. Aris found himself more relaxed than he'd been in months, settling into a steady rhythm of eating and listening as Elise gestured with her fork between bites.

"This is incredible," he said, gesturing with his fork. "How did you even find this place?"

"Foodie doesn't begin to tell you half the story. I have this city on LOCK!" she said, slamming the table, asserting her certainty. "I used to dream of food like this," she said, then laughed at his expression. "I'm serious! I'm sorry I didn't have Chef Ramsay, bless his soul, by the way, I would eviscerate this world even to lick his cooking, anyways, I'm sorry I didn't have a Michelin chef at my beck and call."

"I never needed a chef; my mom's cooking is the best!" Aris states, his voice catching slightly on the word 'mom.' He paused, fork halfway to his mouth, looking down at his plate for a moment longer than necessary before continuing. "Also, you just reminded me, do you think dreams have meaning?"

Her fork paused halfway to her mouth. Something about that exact question felt familiar...

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean like…" he searches for words. "Why do people dream?" his voice takes on a sombre edge as he remembers his last moments with Mr White.

"When you put it like that, I see them as our conscience reflecting upon itself, creating scenarios to process desires, inspiring the imagination. I wouldn't take them at face value whenever you do remember them."

"Even the ones you don't remember?"

"Especially the ones you don't remember. It is my unscientific opinion that those dreams are your mind consolidating what it knows or is learning. Do you have any dreams in particular?"

"No," he answered definitely. "Not anymore, at least," he muttered under his breath. "Do you have any dreams?"

"I guess I dreamt about flying a blue kite," she says, presenting her gift. "I couldn't remember its shape, but you could say it's a dream come true."

"Why a blue kite?" Genuine curiosity in his tone.

"Well, I would say it is sort of affirming myself, ready to face the challenges that come with them, in the symbolic sense. A rather optimistic dream."

"What made you so fond of kites in the first place?"

Elise puts her fork down, no longer wanting to divide her attention. "Whenever it got windy, I would go out with my dad and do some kite crafting, then have our kites and have my join the tussle, even dogfighting a bit," her heart flutters from nostalgia.

Aris found himself eating more slowly, partly captivated by her stories, partly aware that her food was growing cold while she spoke.

"And whenever I dream about them, I feel the utmost serenity. It's therapeutic, almost," she continued, "like he's there again," she said to herself.

Aris felt something tighten in his chest at the wistfulness in her voice. "Sounds like he was a great person to be around."

"He was everything." She picked up her fork again, but her appetite had dimmed slightly.

"How did you get such a connection with dreams?"

"A dream journal. It's so in-depth I could become a diviner," she jokes.

"A diviner, you say?" he asks, half believing.

"I wouldn't bet on it," she says, purging any ideas Aris may have. "This pattern-seeking brain hasn't even begun to understand this one person completely," she points at herself, "let alone another person."

"You're quite productive for a dreamer."

She gives a bashful grin, "I don't know about productive. It's just a hobby I got into in middle school." She giggles, "Besides, the alternatives were astrology or crystals."

Aris gives a curious look, wondering why those were her only options for hobbies.

"Ultimately, it eventually got me into psychology, then criminology, but my media consumption more spurred that shift in me. Either way, I couldn't help but dig into the human psyche."

"And that has led you to become a psychologist?"

She laughs, thinking it was a joke. Aris laughs along awkwardly.

"No, no, no," Elise recovers from her laughing fit, waving her hand dismissively. "I would if I could, but criminology wouldn't leave me as a nerdy barista for long," she said with a self-deprecating shrug.

"You went for criminology? Sounds cool!" Excitement fills his voice. "Plus, you have a whole origin story going for you. What university could've piqued your interest?"

"Take a guess."

Aris guessed some more mainstream institutes, excluding his own, and Elise shook her head with each wrong answer, a small smile playing at her lips. Aris gave her a puzzled look.

"I'm surprised you didn't guess your own, La Défense Institutes."

"I didn't know we had a criminology course," he says faintly.

"I didn't either until I started applying. But it does help with employability," she says reluctantly.

"How come you didn't come to orientation earlier today?"

"I would've come to mess with the first years, but a meeting took priority."

"Was it about the one you mentioned earlier?"

Elise winced, remembering Lyle's unsettling nonchalance, as if he had intended the result. She kept her answer brief, not wanting to get into details about Lyle. And Aris, noticing her uncharacteristic matter-of-factness, he didn't pry.

"Elise straightened in her seat, clearly steering away from Lyle territory, and as they wound down their meal, she realised something. "Wait, I don't think you ever told me what you're studying."

"I didn't?" Aris looked genuinely surprised. "I'm double majoring in economic logistics and business management."

Elise paused, her fork stopping midway to her mouth. "For real?"

"Yeah? Something wrong with that?"

"No, no, no," she said, setting down her fork and studying his face. "It's just... that's a massive workload. I'm barely surviving one degree, and you're doubling up right off the bat?" She shook her head in amazement. "That's either really ambitious or really masochistic."

"I think so..." doubt crept into his voice. "I mean, I handled the coursework smoothly in college, so it seemed feasible."

"If you think you can handle it," she said, her tone coming off assured. "Then you most definitely can, so long as you keep believing in yourself, that is."

"That's a cliche thing to say."

"Want me to tell you that you should give up instead? I can do that if you're that much of a masochist." She teases, Aris rolling his eyes.

Elise drops the spoon on her plate, having only eaten her escabetche and half of her callos a la madrileña, leaving the burrito untouched. However, Aris had finished both his plates, eating steadily while listening to her animated explanations. He glanced at her barely touched escalivada, realising she'd spent most of the meal talking rather than eating. 'Not a fan?

"My eyes were bigger than my stomach," she admitted, looking almost guilty at the waste. "But I am NOT letting this go to waste," she raised her arm to call their server.

"Planning tomorrow's breakfast already?" Aris teased.

"Tomorrow's breakfast, lunch, and probably dinner," she said seriously. The waitress arrived at their table. "Could we get a container for leftovers and the check when you get a chance?" Elise asked gently, and the waitress happily obliged her requesting.

While they waited for the check and her leftovers, Elise pulled out her phone. "We should probably exchange contacts properly this time. Sure beats the random encounters."

Aris nods in agreement, pulling out his phone. As they tapped phones to share contacts, the server approached with the card reader.

"Split or together?" the server asked.

"I'll be paying it," Elise answers, taking out her card from her skirt pocket.

The waitress put down the card reader, and before Elise could take her card out, Aris had already tapped his phone against the reader.

"Aris!" she protested, but the transaction was already complete.

"What? I didn't do anything," his voice feigning innocence with a slight grin.

"You're impossible," she muttered, but she was smiling.

As they stepped out into the golden late afternoon light, both their phones buzzed simultaneously. Then again. And again.

Elise glanced at her screen, her face immediately paling as she read the notification headlines.

Around them, other people were stopping to check their phones, conversations halting mid-sentence as the news spread through the street like wildfire. The city fell silent, with only the ambient sound of traffic reverberating through it.