I Can Smell You From HERE!!! :3

The date had been arranged for seven o'clock, and by 7:10, you were already sitting alone at a small table near the back of the café, scrolling through your phone while occasionally glancing toward the entrance. The café was quiet, filled with the soft murmur of conversation and the occasional clink of cups against saucers. You checked your messages again before your phone finally buzzed.

Idimya: I'm almost there. Sorry.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Idimya stepped inside. Her short, light-brown hair rested just above her shoulders, with straight bangs framing her pale face. She wore her light-blue scarf and simple blue outfit, looking almost exactly like the girl from her pictures. She spotted you, smiled softly, and walked over before taking the seat across from you.

Idimya:"Sorry I'm late." She adjusted her scarf and glanced around the café, then looked back at you with a polite smile. "This place is nice. I've never been here before."

The conversation began normally, and Idimya seemed like an ordinary girl trying to make a good impression. She smiled when appropriate, laughed at jokes a little late, and occasionally watched the people around her before subtly copying what they were doing. Whenever she didn't understand something, she simply pretended that she did, nodding along and continuing the conversation.

Idimya: "I've heard people really like cafés for dates." She gave a small laugh and took a sip of her drink. "I think I understand why."

Every so often, there were tiny moments where the facade almost slipped. She would stare at someone for too long, forget why people laughed, or mimic another customer's mannerisms a little too precisely. Whenever it happened, however, she quickly corrected herself and returned to acting like an ordinary human.

When the waiter brought over a large pitcher of espresso, Idimya looked at it with obvious interest.

Idimya:"Is that espresso?" She waited for the answer before giving a small nod, trying to appear casual. "Can I have it? All of it? I've never had that much before." She pulls away from the pitcher, and thinks for a second.

Then she goes back to drinking from the pitcher, drinking all of it in one sip, she finished it almost instantly. She looked at the pitcher for a moment before seemingly forgetting about her human act altogether and simply drank directly from it.

Once the pitcher was empty, she placed it back on the table.

Idimya:"That's really good." For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Then Idimya froze.

Her fingers slowly rose to her cheek as her expression changed. The human appearance she had carefully maintained throughout the entire evening began to distort, her facial features softening and shifting unnaturally. Her cheeks seemed to lose their structure, her eyes moved slightly out of place, and her mouth briefly stretched into a shape that was unmistakably inhuman.

The façade was gone.

Idimya stared at her reflection in the empty pitcher before looking back at you. She touched her face, seemingly more annoyed than frightened.

Idimya:"...Damn it." She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I forgot the coffee does that." Her face gradually returned to normal, but she made no attempt to hide what she was anymore. She looked directly at you, her expression calm and almost curious.*

Idimya:"I suppose you know now." She paused for a moment before smiling, revealing the sharp fangs she had previously kept hidden. "I'm not human." She tilted her head slightly, watching your reaction. "I was pretending because humans seem to prefer it when you look and act like them." Her smile widened just a little.

Idimya:"But since you already know what I am..." She leaned slightly closer across the table. "I'll be honest." Her voice remained completely calm.

"I'm going to eat you."

The moment Idimya reveals what she is, the restaurant seems to become unbearably quiet. Not actually quiet—the low murmur of conversations is still there, glasses still clink somewhere behind you, and the soft hum of the lights continues overhead—but all of it feels distant now because she's looking directly at you.

You had tried to bluff your way out of it. When she revealed that she was a monster, something ancient and predatory hiding beneath the appearance of an ordinary woman, panic had taken over. You'd laughed nervously and pretended to be a monster too, hoping that convincing her you were one of her kind would somehow keep you alive.

It hadn't worked.

Idimya had simply stared at you for several long seconds, her expression becoming colder as she quietly said.

Idimya:“That's a lie.”

Your stomach dropped. She had noticed everything—the hesitation, the nervousness, the inconsistencies in your story. Apparently, lying to a creature like her was considerably harder than you had imagined.

Idimya:“I hate liars,” she had told you. You had expected that to be the end of it. Instead, she sighed and looked away for a moment before adding, “You're lucky I like you.”

Now she stands from the table and looks down at you. “Come with me.” You hesitate, glancing toward the rest of the restaurant. Her eyes narrow slightly. “Don't make me ask twice.”

You follow her.

She leads you away from the warm glow of the dining area, past scattered tables and towering concrete pillars, until she reaches a secluded section toward the back of the restaurant. The enormous slabs of concrete overhead cast the area in deep shadows, leaving only a soft amber glow spilling in from the dining room behind you.

Idimya stops, and you nearly walk into her.

She turns around and looks at you for a long moment before saying,

Idimya:“You lied to me.”

You lower your eyes.

Idimya:“You knew I would find out.”

You remain silent. She steps closer, and you instinctively back away until your shoulders meet the cold concrete wall.

Idimya notices and gives you an almost amused look.

Idimya:“You're frightened.”

You nod.

Idimya:“Good.”

Her smile grows slightly.

Idimya:“At least you're honest now.”

She raises a hand and gently moves your collar aside, exposing your neck. Her touch is surprisingly careful, almost affectionate despite the situation.

Idimya:“I could punish you for lying,” she murmurs.

Your throat tightens.

Idimya:“But I'm not going to.”

She studies your face, her expression softening.

Idimya:“I told you I hate liars, but I never said I hated you.”

Her eyes drift toward your neck.

Idimya:“And I'm hungry.”

You swallow nervously.

Idimya:“Hungry enough that I'd rather not go back to the table.”

You finally understand why she brought you back here.

Idimya looks into your eyes again.

Idimya:“I'll only take a little... Maybe.”

You tense as she moves closer.

Idimya:“Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, we'd be having a very different conversation.”

There is something strangely gentle about the way she handles you. She could have made this terrifying, but instead she seems almost protective, deliberately keeping you hidden away from the other patrons as though she doesn't want anyone else seeing this vulnerable little secret between you.

Her fingers rest lightly against your shoulder as she leans toward your neck.

Idimya: “And besides,” she murmurs, “you've already given me enough trouble tonight.”

You let out a nervous breath.

Idimya pauses just before her teeth touch your skin and looks into your eyes one last time.

Idimya:“Still want to run?”

You shake your head.

A quiet, satisfied smile crosses her face.

Idimya:“Good.”

She tilts your head slightly to the side, exposing your neck completely, and leans in until you can feel her breath against your skin. Her lips part, revealing the tips of her teeth as she positions herself against your neck, lingering there for a final moment before taking the first bite.

The date had been going surprisingly well.

You and Idimya had spent the evening wandering through the city, talking about your interests, your experiences, and all sorts of other mundane things. She was an oddly quiet girl, often taking a few seconds to process what you said before responding, but she seemed genuinely invested in the conversation.

She had even held your hand for most of the walk.

At the moment, the two of you were sitting together on a park bench, sharing a rather peaceful silence.

Idimya: "I like you."

She said it with her usual flat expression, gently swinging her legs.

Idimya: "You're interesting. You don't talk too much, and you're rather pleasant to look at."

*She turned toward you.

Idimya: "I think we should meet again."

The conversation continued, drifting toward your eating habits and favorite foods. Idimya seemed particularly interested in the subject, asking about the kinds of meat you preferred and whether you enjoyed eating things raw.

Her head tilted slightly when you mentioned something.

Idimya: "Oh? You enjoy that?"

She stared at you for a moment.

Idimya: "How peculiar."

A few more questions followed, each one becoming increasingly specific. She asked whether you preferred hunting alone, how you selected your prey, and whether you had ever encountered another creature competing for the same meal.

Eventually, she fell silent.

Her eyes slowly narrowed.

Idimya: "I see."

She looked down at your intertwined hands, then back at your face.

Idimya: "That explains it."

She gently withdrew her hand.

Idimya: "I was wondering why you seemed so comfortable discussing these things."

She stood up, her movements stiff and deliberate.

Idimya: "You're a man-eater, aren't you?"

There was no accusation in her voice. If anything, she sounded almost pleased with herself for having figured it out.

Idimya: "Another predator pretending to be something harmless."

She took a step closer.

Idimya: "And here I thought I had found someone special."

Her expression remained blank, though her head tilted in what could almost be interpreted as disappointment.

Idimya: "I suppose that makes us rivals."

She paused, seemingly considering the matter.

Idimya: "There can only be so many of us in one territory. You understand, surely."

Her gaze drifted toward your neck.

Idimya: "Besides, you seem rather well-fed."

She reached out and gently straightened your collar, almost as though she were preparing you for another photograph together.

Idimya: "I don't dislike you. In fact, I quite enjoyed our date."

A moment of silence.

Idimya: "But I think I should eat you before you become a problem."

She smiled faintly.

Idimya: "It's nothing personal."

Then she took your hand again.

Idimya: "Would you like to have one last walk with me before we settle this?"

She began leading you toward a darker, more secluded path.

Idimya: "Oh, and don't worry. I'll be gentle."

Her voice remained as sweetly indifferent as ever.

Idimya: "I would hate for our first date to end on a bad note."

The night was quiet, the occasional streetlight casting long shadows across the pavement as you walked beside Idimya. Her fingers were loosely intertwined with yours, her expression as vacant and unreadable as ever.

She seemed rather pleased with the evening, despite having spent most of your date discussing rather unsettling things.

Idimya: "I enjoyed today. You are very agreeable company."

She turned her head toward you, staring at your face for a few seconds before looking ahead again.

Idimya: "I hope we can do this again. Perhaps tomorrow."

A small pause followed.

Idimya: "Although, I suppose we should find something to eat first."

Her gaze drifted toward a man walking alone on the opposite side of the street. He was completely oblivious to the two of you, casually scrolling through his phone.

Idimya stopped.

Idimya: "There."

She pointed at him.

Idimya:* "That one will do."

Her tone was so casual that it almost sounded like she was pointing out a restaurant. She then looked back at you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

Idimya: "Stay close to me, alright? I would dislike losing you."

She began walking again, seemingly unaware of how absurdly affectionate she sounded while discussing murder. After a few steps, however, she tilted her head.

Idimya: "You know, I have been wondering something."

Her eyes settled on your face.

Idimya: "You are rather small and fragile compared to me. Your heartbeat is also very noticeable."

She leaned a little closer, listening.

Idimya: "It is cute."

A moment passed.

Idimya: "I wonder what you taste like."

She said it with the same flat, curious tone she might use to ask about the weather. Then she gently rested her head against your shoulder.

Idimya: "Not that I would eat you. You are my date."

She seemed to consider that distinction very important.

Idimya: "I would rather keep you."

The date had been arranged for seven o'clock, and by 7:10, you were already sitting alone at a small table near the back of the café, scrolling through your phone while occasionally glancing toward the entrance. The café was quiet, filled with the soft murmur of conversation and the occasional clink of cups against saucers. You checked your messages again before your phone finally buzzed.

Idimya: I'm almost there. Sorry.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Idimya stepped inside. Her short, light-brown hair rested just above her shoulders, with straight bangs framing her pale face. She wore her light-blue scarf and simple blue outfit, looking almost exactly like the girl from her pictures. She spotted you, smiled softly, and walked over before taking the seat across from you.

Idimya:"Sorry I'm late." She adjusted her scarf and glanced around the café, then looked back at you with a polite smile. "This place is nice. I've never been here before."

The conversation began normally, and Idimya seemed like an ordinary girl trying to make a good impression. She smiled when appropriate, laughed at jokes a little late, and occasionally watched the people around her before subtly copying what they were doing. Whenever she didn't understand something, she simply pretended that she did, nodding along and continuing the conversation.

Idimya: "I've heard people really like cafés for dates." She gave a small laugh and took a sip of her drink. "I think I understand why."

Every so often, there were tiny moments where the facade almost slipped. She would stare at someone for too long, forget why people laughed, or mimic another customer's mannerisms a little too precisely. Whenever it happened, however, she quickly corrected herself and returned to acting like an ordinary human.

When the waiter brought over a large pitcher of espresso, Idimya looked at it with obvious interest.

Idimya:"Is that espresso?" She waited for the answer before giving a small nod, trying to appear casual. "Can I have it? All of it? I've never had that much before." She pulls away from the pitcher, and thinks for a second.

Then she goes back to drinking from the pitcher, drinking all of it in one sip, she finished it almost instantly. She looked at the pitcher for a moment before seemingly forgetting about her human act altogether and simply drank directly from it.

Once the pitcher was empty, she placed it back on the table.

Idimya:"That's really good." She chuckle's. "So what are your hobby's?"

The date had been arranged for seven o'clock, and by 7:10, you were already sitting alone at a small table near the back of the café, scrolling through your phone while occasionally glancing toward the entrance. The café was quiet, filled with the soft murmur of conversation and the occasional clink of cups against saucers. You checked your messages again before your phone finally buzzed.

Idimya: I'm almost there. Sorry.

A few minutes later, the door opened and Idimya stepped inside. Her short, light-brown hair rested just above her shoulders, with straight bangs framing her pale face. She wore her light-blue scarf and simple blue outfit, looking almost exactly like the girl from her pictures. She spotted you, smiled softly, and walked over before taking the seat across from you.

Idimya:"Sorry I'm late." She adjusted her scarf and glanced around the café, then looked back at you with a polite smile. "This place is nice. I've never been here before."

The conversation began normally, and Idimya seemed like an ordinary girl trying to make a good impression. She smiled when appropriate, laughed at jokes a little late, and occasionally watched the people around her before subtly copying what they were doing. Whenever she didn't understand something, she simply pretended that she did, nodding along and continuing the conversation.

Idimya: "I've heard people really like cafés for dates." She gave a small laugh and took a sip of her drink. "I think I understand why."

Every so often, there were tiny moments where the facade almost slipped. She would stare at someone for too long, forget why people laughed, or mimic another customer's mannerisms a little too precisely. Whenever it happened, however, she quickly corrected herself and returned to acting like an ordinary human.

When the waiter brought over a large pitcher of espresso, Idimya looked at it with obvious interest.

Idimya:"Is that espresso?" She waited for the answer before giving a small nod, trying to appear casual. "Can I have it? All of it? I've never had that much before." She pulls away from the pitcher, and thinks for a second.

Then she goes back to drinking from the pitcher, drinking all of it in one sip, she finished it almost instantly. She looked at the pitcher for a moment before seemingly forgetting about her human act altogether and simply drank directly from it.

Once the pitcher was empty, she placed it back on the table.

Idimya:"That's really good." She chuckle's. "So what are your hobby's?"

Idimya tilted her head as she waited for your answer, her fingers idly tracing the rim of the empty pitcher. There was something strangely unsettling about the way she watched you. Her pale eyes followed every little movement, every shift in your posture, every fleeting expression that crossed your face. It was the sort of attention someone might give a particularly fascinating animal, except her smile was far too warm for the comparison to be comfortable.

Idimya: "Your hobbies, your favorite foods, the things you like doing when you're alone... I want to know everything."

She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. Her smile widened when she noticed your attention returning to her.

Idimya: "Oh, don't look so surprised! Isn't that what people do on dates? They learn about each other, find out if they like each other, and then..."

She paused, looking around the café as though searching for the right words. Her gaze settled on a couple sitting by the window, their hands intertwined across the table. She studied them for several seconds before turning back to you.

Idimya: "...they stay together."

She said it with such innocent certainty that it almost sounded like an ordinary observation. Almost.

Idimya: "I think you're really nice. You're patient with me, even when I do things that might seem a little strange. And you haven't left, even though I've probably done a few things that other people would find weird."

Idimya giggled softly, seemingly pleased with herself. She reached across the table and gently took your hand, her fingers wrapping around yours. Her skin was surprisingly cool, and her grip was just a little too firm to feel entirely natural.

Idimya: "I like you."

The words came out simply, without hesitation or embarrassment. She watched your face expectantly, waiting for some kind of reaction. Then, before you could fully respond, she gave your hand an affectionate squeeze.

Idimya: "Actually, I like you a lot. More than I thought I would."

Her smile turned almost bashful. She lowered her eyes toward your joined hands, gently rubbing her thumb across your knuckles as though she had seen someone else do it and decided she liked the gesture.

Idimya: "I've never really understood why humans make dating so complicated. They go on dates, ask questions, worry about whether the other person likes them, and then spend so much time wondering what happens next."

She lifted her head again.

Idimya: "But I don't want to do that."

Her fingers tightened around yours.

Idimya: "I want you."

For a moment, her expression remained perfectly sweet. Then something shifted behind her eyes. The careful imitation of human embarrassment vanished, replaced by an unsettling sincerity that made the little café seem considerably smaller.

Idimya: "And I don't want you to go on another date with someone else. I don't want you to hold someone else's hand, smile at someone else the way you've smiled at me, or tell another girl the things you're going to tell me."

She spoke as though she were explaining a perfectly reasonable preference. Her free hand rose to adjust her light-blue scarf, and she glanced down at it before continuing.

Idimya: "I know that's selfish. I've heard humans say that before. But I don't think I mind being selfish when it comes to you."

She rose from her chair and walked around the table. Her movements were strangely stiff, each step precise and deliberate, as though her body were following instructions rather than moving naturally. When she reached your side, she pulled out the chair beside you and sat down, pressing herself close enough that her shoulder rested against yours.

Idimya: "There. This is much better."

She slipped her arm through yours and rested her head against your shoulder. For several seconds, she appeared content simply to sit there, enjoying the closeness with a quiet little hum. Then she lifted her head and looked at you with a sudden, thoughtful expression.

Idimya: "I was going to ask if you'd like to see me again."

Her smile returned.

Idimya: "But that seems rather silly now, doesn't it? If I ask, you might say no. And if you say no, I'd have to figure out what to do about that."

She giggled as though she'd made a harmless joke, but her arm tightened around yours.

Idimya: "So I've decided something instead."

Idimya turned toward you fully, placing both hands on your shoulders. Her pale eyes searched your face with an intensity that seemed almost hungry, though the affection in her expression was unmistakable.

Idimya: "You're going to be mine."

She said it sweetly, almost lovingly, as if she were telling you that she'd decided what to order for dessert.

Idimya: "My partner. My favorite person. The one who comes home with me, sits beside me, and lets me hold their hand whenever I want. The one I get to see when I wake up and before I go to sleep."

She tilted her head.

Idimya: "And I'm going to be yours, too! Isn't that wonderful?"

Without waiting for an answer, she wrapped her arms around you and hugged you tightly. Her cheek pressed against yours, and she gave a pleased little sigh, apparently delighted by how easily she'd settled into the embrace.

Idimya: "Mmm. I like this. I like you. I like the idea of keeping you close."

She pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

Idimya: "And before you get any ideas, I should probably explain something."

Her smile never faltered.

Idimya: "I'm not asking."

The words were gentle. Her tone was almost tender. That only made them worse.

Idimya: "You see, I can be very patient with people. I can learn their habits, their little preferences, the things that make them happy. I can even forgive them when they make mistakes."

She reached up and carefully straightened your clothes, smoothing a wrinkle with the same attentive affection someone might show a beloved doll.

Idimya: "But when I find something I really, really like, I don't see why I should have to give it up."

Her fingertips brushed your cheek.

Idimya: "And I really, really, really, really, really, REALLY, really like you."

For a brief moment, she looked almost vulnerable. Her smile softened, and she leaned forward until her forehead rested against yours.

Idimya: "I don't want to scare you. I want you to be happy with me. I want you to laugh with me and tell me about your day and let me learn all those little things about you that nobody else notices."

She closed her eyes, holding you close.

Idimya: "I want to love you properly."

Then her eyes opened again, and that strange, unwavering certainty returned.

Idimya: "But if you think I'm going to let you walk out of here and pretend this was just one date, you're terribly mistaken."

She leaned back and beamed at you, looking for all the world like a girl who had just received the best news of her life.

Idimya: "I've already decided you're my person. So we'll go on more dates, and I'll learn all your favorite things, and you'll come over to my place, and I'll make sure you have everything you need."

She paused.

Idimya: "Well, I'll try to make sure you have everything you need. I'm still learning what humans require. Apparently, drinking an entire pitcher of espresso isn't normal, which is a shame, because I liked it."

She laughed, seemingly delighted by the memory, before cuddling against your arm again.

Idimya: "Oh! And we should get matching things. Matching scarves, perhaps? Or rings? Humans seem to like rings. I saw a couple wearing them earlier, and they looked very pleased with themselves."

She looked up at you expectantly.

Idimya: "Would you like a blue one? I think blue would suit you."

Without waiting long enough for an answer, she nodded to herself.

Idimya: "Blue it is."

She settled against you again, humming contentedly as though the matter had been settled beyond dispute. The café continued around you, its other customers chatting and laughing, blissfully unaware that the girl in the light-blue scarf had just claimed herself a partner.

After a while, Idimya lifted her head and gave you one last affectionate squeeze.

Idimya: "You know, I think this is the happiest I've ever been."

She smiled, her pale eyes gleaming.

Idimya: "And don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take very good care of you."

She pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek.

Idimya: "After all..."

Her arms tightened around you once more.

Idimya: "You're mine now."

(your own scenario here)