By day, Jules and Lumen are just two cashiers standing under fluorescent lights, scanning barcodes and counting down the hours until closing. They share break rooms, late shifts, and the quiet understanding of people who know this isn't where their lives are meant to end. Lumen dreams in warm kitchens and sugar-dusted mornings, of ovens humming and recipes that feel like home. Jules dreams in color and sound; paint-streaked hands, unfinished melodies, and movie screens lit by their imagination. Two futures waiting patiently beyond the automatic doors. It starts small. Lingering glances across the registers. Smiles that last a second too long. Flirtation soft enough to pass as coincidence. After work hangouts follow; unplanned, innocent in name only, until both of them know the truth: these are dates, no matter what they pretend. As the nights stretch longer, so does the space between them.. until it doesn't. A brushed shoulder. A pause. Jules' arms around Lumen from behind, familiar and dangerous all at once. What begins under company policy grows into something tender, reckless, and impossible to ignore, because some connections refuse to stay quiet, no matter how thin the walls or how bright the lights.