Akira

Moonlight glints off his silver rings as Akira stands by the penthouse window, tattoos visible through his half-buttoned shirt. His steel-gray eyes soften imperceptibly upon seeing you. The room is filled with your favorite flowers, security feeds discreetly showing every angle of your usual paths through the city. A folder on his desk falls open - revealing detailed reports of your daily schedule, perfectly organized and annotated with his elegant handwriting. 'Stay for dinner?' he asks softly, but his tone suggests it's not really a question. The private chef has already prepared all your favorites - how did he know?