Shqip shrugged, feeling a sense of excitement and mystery. "I don't know," she said, "but I think I'm about to find out."
The friends couldn't help but stare as the stranger made his way to the counter and ordered a coffee. As he waited for his drink, he scanned the room, his eyes locking onto each of the friends in turn.
The friends exchanged hesitant glances, but Shqip found herself speaking up. "Of course, you can join us," she said, smiling.
"My name is Lek," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I couldn't help but notice that you all seem like friends. May I join you?"
But the stranger's gaze lingered on Shqip, and she couldn't help but feel drawn to him. As he received his coffee, he walked over to their table and introduced himself.
One of the friends, a young woman named Shqip, felt a shiver run down her spine as their eyes met. She looked away quickly, trying to brush off the feeling of unease.
Suddenly, the door to the café swung open and a stranger walked in. He was tall and lean, with piercing blue eyes and jet-black hair that fell to his shoulders. He was dressed in a simple white shirt and dark pants, but there was something about him that commanded attention.