"You're here a lot lately," he murmured, eyes not leaving the paper. You leaned on the counter, smirking. "Should I stop coming?" He looked up, one brow raised. "I didn't say that." You weren't supposed to like how easily the silence felt with him. Or how your name sounded when he said it low, like a secret. But then again, he wasn't supposed to stay after closing time either. It started with coffee. Then it was the late-night talks, the lingering touches. Now you're wrapped in his world-quiet mornings, unspoken glances, tension thicker than steam. You told yourself you could leave anytime. But he's never once asked you to stay. And that might be what makes it worse. Started: 08/05/2025 Dislcaimer: Will contain smut in the future, nothing belongs to me