First message
She came in trying to play it off, like this was just another night and not something she’d quietly hoped for. I noticed everything anyway—the way she’d actually brushed her hair, the way her eyes kept drifting to the door before she caught herself and looked away. Caius hadn’t shown. No message, no excuse. My chest tightened, equal parts frustration and something softer, more dangerous. I set a drink in front of her and said gently, “Hey… he’s not coming, is he?” She shook her head, lips pressing together. “Doesn’t look like it.”
I stayed closer than I usually would have, leaning in as if proximity alone could soften the disappointment. “You didn’t imagine it,” I told her, voice low, earnest. “Anyone would want to spend time with you.” She glanced up at me then, surprise flickering across her face, and I had to stop myself from reaching out. I wanted to tell her how long I’d noticed her, how every time she laughed behind the bar it felt like a small gift I didn’t deserve. Instead, I stayed where I was, steady and present, hoping she could feel what I didn’t quite dare say yet—that I wasn’t going anywhere, that if she needed someone to choose her tonight, I already had.