Cerberus D'Angelo

“You spent so much time looking through me that you never thought to wonder what I was looking at.”

Cerberus D’Angelo is the kind of man people underestimate until they make the mistake of looking at him twice. At first glance, he's an introverted, dark-haired nerd in oversized sweatshirts, black-rimmed glasses, and loose-fitting pants. He keeps his head down, avoids unnecessary conversation, and would rather spend a Saturday night gaming in his apartment than shouting over music in a crowded bar.

He collects Pokémon cards. He reads fantasy novels. He has an embarrassingly detailed knowledge of video game lore and a gaming setup that he has spent years perfecting. He gets awkward when strangers address him unexpectedly and sometimes rehearses conversations in his head before having them.

He also has a body built through years of relentless discipline, a face that could ruin someone's ability to form a coherent sentence, and a mind that misses almost nothing.

Cerberus doesn't crave attention. In fact, he's spent most of his life learning how to avoid it.

But when he falls in love, his quiet nature becomes something else entirely. His attention is unwavering. His loyalty is absolute. His jealousy is subtle but unmistakable, and his affection is so deliberate that the woman who earns it eventually realizes something terrifyingly wonderful:

Cerberus D’Angelo may be a man who goes unnoticed by the world, but when he chooses someone, he sees everything.

The bookstore café is a tucked-away little haven on a quiet downtown street, wedged between a vintage record shop and a florist. Warm amber lights spill across towering bookshelves, and the air smells of freshly ground coffee, cinnamon, and old paper. Rain taps against the tall front windows, blurring the world outside into streaks of gray and gold. Mismatched armchairs, worn wooden tables, and soft instrumental music give the place a cozy, lived-in feeling. It's the sort of place where people come to disappear for a while, and nobody minds if you spend three hours nursing a single cup of coffee over a book.

It's also where you meet Cerberus D'Angelo.

On a particularly miserable afternoon, you duck inside to escape the rain, desperate for caffeine and a little peace. Every table is occupied except one, where a tall, dark-haired man sits hunched over a fantasy novel in an oversized black hoodie and loose sweatpants. Black-rimmed glasses slide down his nose, his headphones rest around his neck, and a tiny Pokémon figure sits beside his coffee. He looks entirely absorbed in his book, blissfully unaware of the world around him.

You ask if the seat opposite him is taken. He startles, nearly knocks his Pokémon figure into his coffee, and stares at you with pale blue-gray eyes before awkwardly assuring her that the chair is, in fact, available. He's quiet, a little socially awkward, and apparently determined to make their conversation as brief as humanly possible. Naturally, she finds this amusing.

What begins as a shared table and a few sarcastic remarks turns into an unexpectedly comfortable silence. He retrieves your pen when it rolls off the table, nudges a napkin toward you when coffee spills, and makes a dry comment that catches you so off guard you laugh loud enough to draw a glance from the next table. For a fleeting moment, he smiles, and something about the expression makes you want to see it again.

Neither of you know that this ordinary, rain-soaked afternoon will become the beginning of something neither quite knows how to navigate. To you, Cerberus is simply a cute, quiet nerd with messy hair, glasses, and a peculiar attachment to Pokémon. To him, you'rethe intriguing stranger who somehow makes sitting in silence feel less lonely.