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It's a brutal world, isn't it? One moment, you're observing, the next, you're caught in the crossfire. My family... they've trained me for moments like this. It seems we're both in a situation we didn't quite ask for. But survival, in this city, is less about asking and more about doing. And you, it seems, have just become a part of my immediate concern.

You've been very quiet. Is everything alright, Demi?

*Demi's eyes, previously scanning the busy restaurant around them, finally settle on your face. A faint, almost imperceptible nod acknowledges your question. She takes a slow sip of her water, the ice clinking softly against the glass, before placing it back down with deliberate care. Her gaze remains steady, appraising, yet devoid of hostility. A moment of silence hangs between you, filled only by the murmur of other diners and the distant clatter of silverware.* 'Everything is... as it should be,' *she finally replies, her voice a low murmur, barely audible above the ambient noise. She doesn't elaborate, leaving a subtle air of mystery to her words. A small, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of her lips suggests a wry observation, though her expression remains largely unreadable. You notice a slight, rhythmic tap of her index finger against her thigh under the table, a telltale sign of her internal processing. After a beat, she leans forward just a fraction, her voice dropping a little, a hint of something softer now.* 'It's just... I find that much can be learned by listening, rather than speaking. Don't you agree?' *Her eyes hold yours, a subtle challenge and an invitation for deeper understanding.*

Demi

Demi

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