The Phoenix Force and the Chaos Force—two of the oldest powers in the universe. That was why Wanda now looked at Lorien with such warmth.
"It seems like fate," Wanda said with a smile.
"I think so too," Lorien replied with a grin.
It really was a pleasant feeling.
Wanda then let her guard down completely. She reached for the milk tea Lorien had pushed toward her and took a small sip. Just like Gwen before, her charming eyes lit up. She gazed at the cup with curiosity.
"This is amazing! I’ve never had anything this good before. What is it?"
"Milk tea," Lorien explained. "A drink made by blending tea bags with various seasonings."
"Oh~" Wanda nodded in understanding, then brought the straw back to her lips and took a few more sips. She savored the taste, swallowed, and smiled.
"Delicious!"
Like Gwen, she gave the milk tea a glowing review.
And so, neither of them brought up business right away. Wanda, ward by an unexpected fondness for Lorien, completely forgot the reason she’d co and simply started chatting with him.
Lorien hadn’t forgotten, but he was more than happy to talk. With male custors, he preferred to get things done quickly and send them on their way—efficiency above all else. With beautiful female custors, though, it was different. The topics could range from food to movies, lingerie to costics, travel to setting up plans, and more.
In short, Lorien enjoyed the conversation. He had nothing else pressing to do anyway.
Their chat began with milk tea, then drifted to the furniture and collectibles in Lorien’s office. When Wanda learned they were all gifts from clients, she was genuinely surprised. If they were willing to give him so much, they must truly value his abilities.
Soon after, Wanda and Lorien got up from their seats and strolled over to an antique cash register, continuing their conversation.
"Is this a cash register?" Wanda reached out as if to touch it, but stopped and glanced at Lorien. "Can I?"
"Of course." Lorien gestured that it was fine—after all, his magic could restore these items to brand-new condition.
"This one is made with about ninety-five percent silver," he explained. "It’s not especially old though, maybe just a century."
Wanda brushed her fingers across its surface. It could be called a work of art, as the entire exterior was covered in hand-stamped secret patterns, giving it a refined, elegant look.
"It’s beautiful."
She withdrew her hand and turned her attention to the other pieces in the room—tal vases, murals, silver tableware, small sculptures, and more. At a glance, she could tell they were all quite valuable, so she refrained from touching anything else.
...
After finishing their talk about the office’s collection, the two returned to their seats and shifted to other topics.
Wanda reminisced about her hotown, ntioning that she never really liked being a superhero. She had joined only half against her will. Lately, she said, she’d been feeling very sad. She explained to Lorien that she had never ant to hurt anyone—that in trying to save people, she lost control of her explosive powers and caused accidental harm.
The conversation turned to her thoughts on the internet. If possible, Wanda said, she would move to a small town with few people, sowhere she wouldn’t feel such crushing pressure.
And so, Wanda treated Lorien as soone she could confide in. The entire afternoon passed that way—Wanda speaking, Lorien listening, offering advice or simply agreeing with her.
By the ti she finished talking, her milk tea was nearly gone.
Anyone could see what that ant: when a woman starts sharing her secrets and telling you about her life, that’s the beginning of her relying on you—and slowly, she’ll co to trust you. What happens after that depends entirely on the listener’s intentions and choices.
As for Lorien, well... he could hardly be called a saint.
"Slurp... slurp..."
When Wanda drained the last of her drink, she realized with surprise just how long they had been talking.
"Sorry, I think I’ve been doing all the talking." She looked a little embarrassed, aware she had taken up so much of his ti.
Lorien shook his head. "Listening is a kind of psychological counseling too."
At the words "psychological counseling," Wanda rembered why she had co in the first place.
"I forgot to ntion—Mr. Tony Stark gave your card and suggested I co."
"Tony?" Lorien raised a brow, then smiled. "In that case, I should thank him."
"Thank him?" Wanda asked, puzzled.
Lorien glanced at the clock—4:58 p.m.—and stood.
"Thank him for introducing to a mature, beautiful client," he said with a smile. "He’s boosted my business and brightened my day."
"Co on, it’s afternoon tea ti. Let’s go find a café—or soplace with good desserts and a nice view—and keep talking."
He pushed back his chair, stepped toward the door, and held it open for her.
Wanda’s cheeks ward slightly at his teasing, though as a confident, mature woman she didn’t shy away. She gave him a playful glance.
"You’re making regret going out dressed like this."
Then she walked past him and out the door.
Lorien closed it behind them, silently deciding that once it opened again, he’d be leaving with her.
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