✧ i don't know me anymore ✧

Harrison hadn’t even tried to hide the way his grin stretched wider after that kiss, if anything, it only made him look more alive, more in his element. Attention didn’t faze him; he thrived in it. The whistles, the claps, the eyes on them, he soaked it up like it was part of the plan all along. As she tucked into him, face pressed against his chest, his hand came up without hesitation, steady at her back, thumb brushing slow, reassuring circles like he was grounding her while still playing the part flawlessly. When she thanked the manager, Harrison gave an easy nod of appreciation, flashing that same effortless charm that probably helped sell the whole thing in the first place. The taco lifted in his hand like it was champagne, his eyes flicking to hers with a spark of mischief. As she started guiding them away, he followed without resistance, fingers still laced with hers, giving a light squeeze every now and then, subtle, but intentional. Even as the noise faded behind them, he didn’t rush to let go, like he was in no hurry to break whatever they’d just created. When they reached the bench and she sat, he dropped down beside her, stretching his legs out casually, one arm draped along the back of the bench behind her. At her comment about everyone believing it, he let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her. “Course they did,” he said smoothly. “You kidding? That performance? Oscar-worthy.” His eyes flickered with amusement, but there was something a little more genuine underneath it now, quieter, less for show. Then she apologised. That made him pause, just for a second. Harrison turned his head fully toward her, studying her face properly this time, like he was weighing his answer instead of just tossing out the first playful thing that came to mind. But then that familiar confidence slipped right back into place, softened just enough to not feel like deflection. “Weird?” he repeated, a small smirk pulling at his lips. “Cass, I’ve had worse kisses, trust me.” He leaned back slightly, still angled toward her, his tone easy but deliberate. “I didn't hate it. Didn’t exactly look like you hated it either.” A beat, just enough to tease, but not push too far. Then, quieter, a little more sincere without losing that lightness: “You don’t have to apologise for it.” His shoulder nudged hers gently, casual, grounding. “If anything, you committed to the bit. I respect it.” A pause. “And for the record?” His gaze dipped briefly to her lips before flicking back up, grin returning, just a touch slower this time. “I'm not complaining. A great kiss and free tacos? That's something we call a win-win in my book."

their little plan had worked wonders. not only had they managed to get free tacos, but no one had even questioned that getting engaged might be a clever way to score free food. they walked away from the scene they had just created hand in hand, looking every bit like a real couple. if she was being completely honest, she was surprised by how naturally she'd managed to play the part. once they sat down, he didn't seem to be in any hurry to put space between them. his arm rested along the back of the bench behind her, the closeness lingering. “oscar-worthy? i wouldn't go that far,” she chuckled softly. “but considering we got free tacos out of it... maybe emmy-worthy.” her heart was beating far faster than it had any right to. she hadn't felt this alive in such a long time that it almost scared her. “sorry about the kiss, by the way,” she added. “we never actually agreed on that part, i just... went for it.” she wasn't sure whether it had bothered him, but the smirk spreading across his face made it pretty obvious it hadn't. “well, i'm glad i'm not the worst kisser ever. thanks, man,” she teased, shaking her head. when he admitted he hadn't exactly hated it either, she finally turned to meet his gaze. “you're insane,” she laughed, shaking her head again. “a great kiss and free tacos?” she nodded approvingly. “sounds like a win to me.” she picked up one of the tacos from the tray and raised it like a champagne flute. “to love?” she said with a quiet laugh, still happily playing the role of the newly engaged fiancée. “or... to kisses and tacos.” she laughed again, surprised by how genuine it felt. she hadn't laughed like that in months—maybe even a year. for just a moment, she felt alive again, free from the weight that had been dragging her down for so long. then she took a bite of her taco, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips. “okay... this is the best taco i've ever had.”

For a split second after the kiss, Harrison just blinked up at her from where he was still kneeling, clearly not the kissing part of the performance. Then the grin hit. Wide. Bright. Completely unfiltered. “Well damn,” he laughed under his breath, shaking his head slightly as he pushed himself up from the ground. The moment he was standing again, he didn’t let go of her, instead his hands slid to her waist and, in one smooth motion, he lifted her a few inches off her feet like the excitement had nowhere else to go and quickly spun them both around. Around them, people had already started clapping, a couple of strangers cheering loudly like they’d just witnessed the most romantic moment of the week. Someone near the front of the line even whistled, and Harrison laughed again, still holding her slightly off the ground before setting her back down. “There it is!” he called out playfully to the small crowd, one arm still loosely around her as he glanced around at the smiling faces. “She said yes!” More clapping followed, a few people grinning at Cassie like they’d been personally invested in the outcome. Harrison looked back down at her then, clearly amused by how quickly the whole thing had turned into a spectacle. His hand squeezed hers again, grounding and warm. His eyes flicked toward the taco stand ahead of them before returning to her with a crooked smile. “And now,” he added, giving her hand a small tug as the line started moving again, “my fiancée deserves tacos.” Harrison had just started guiding Cassie forward with the line again when someone from behind the taco stand leaned over the counter. The manager, a middle-aged man in an apron dusted with flour and salsa stains, disappeared briefly behind the stand. A moment later he came back carrying a large tray absolutely loaded with tacos. The man set the tray down in front of them. “These are for you two,” he said warmly, gesturing toward the mountain of food. “Congratulations on a beautiful relationship.” For once, Harrison looked genuinely caught off guard. His eyebrows shot up as he looked from the tacos, to Cassie, then back to the manager like he was making sure this was actually happening. Then his expression softened into something sincerely grateful. “Oh, man.” Harrison let out a small breath of disbelief before placing a hand flat against his chest, pressing it there in a gesture of genuine thanks. “That’s incredibly kind of you. Thank you.” He gave the man a respectful nod before glancing down at the tray again, clearly impressed. Turning slightly toward Cassie, his grin crept back into place. He picked up one of the tacos and lifted it slightly toward her like a celebratory toast. "To us. To forever."

cassie didn’t know where the kiss came from, in fact, she did it without thinking at all, and it was definitely a surprise for harrison too. as she pulled away, her cheeks burned bright red, he was still kneeling, and the smile on his lips was so wide that she felt oddly relieved. just like he hadn’t expected her to kiss him, she hadn’t expected him to wrap his arms around her waist and spin them around. she let out a small scream, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck before a laugh slipped out. people believed their act was real, whistles and claps surrounding them. she shook her head, pressing her face briefly against his chest as the applause continued. their fingers laced together, and she couldn’t help but glance down at their hands, a soft smile forming on her lips. "best way to seal this," she said, trying to sound as bright and bubbly as her low mood allowed. when the manager placed a large tray in front of them and said it was for them, she smiled widely. "thank you so much, that’s so sweet," she said warmly. as harrison grabbed one of the tacos and raised it in a toast, she looked up at him. "forever," she echoed softly before taking the tray herself. "i think i need to sit down, my legs are shaking so bad, i don’t want my butter fingers dropping any of these," she added, gently guiding them away from the crowd so she wouldn’t feel so watched. she weaved through people until she found an empty bench under a streetlight, far enough from the noise. sitting down, she let out a long breath. "they actually believed it," she murmured, still surprised it had worked. she glanced at him, her expression softening. "i’m sorry about the kiss, i don’t know where that came from," she admitted, picking up a taco. "was it too weird?"

The atmosphere was almost too perfect, a stroke of luck that Harrison intended to exploit to its fullest. The taco stand was tucked under a canopy of warm, oversized Edison bulbs that cast a honeyed glow over the mismatched wooden tables. A soft, acoustic guitar cover of a classic love song drifted through the air, competing with the sizzle of marinated meat and the chatter of the crowd. Harrison led Cassie toward the center of the area. Once he was sure they had a captive audience, a couple of teenagers on a date, a large family at the long table, a group of old people, and the staff behind the counter, he came to a halt. He turned to Cassie, his expression shifting into something so profoundly tender it would have been terrifying if she didn't know it was a ruse. He took both of her hands in his, the movement deliberate and slow. "Cassandra," he began, his voice projected just enough to make the surrounding tables go quiet. "I know I told you we were just coming here for dinner. But standing here under these lights I can’t pretend anymore." He dropped slowly to one knee, the gravel crunching beneath him. He looked up at her, his dark eyes brimming with a faux-sincerity that felt dangerously close to the real thing. "You think you’re 'boring,' but to me, you’re the only person who makes the world actually make sense. You’re the logic in my chaos, the calm in every storm I’ve ever walked into. I’ve spent my whole life looking for a reason to stay in one place, and I realised tonight that the reason is you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out her grandmother’s ring, holding it up so the twinkling lights caught the metal. "I don't want another night where I'm not looking across the table at you. I want the boring parts, the hard parts, and everything in between. So, in front of all these witnesses," He paused, a small, devastatingly handsome smile tugging at his lips. "Cassie, will you make me the luckiest man in this taco line? Will you marry me?"

cassie honestly had no idea how she had agreed to any of this. if she was being completely real with herself, she had handed over her grandma’s ring and accepted the role in exchange for tacos — which, when she thought about it, sounded absolutely insane. she wondered what her therapist would say when she told him about it later that week. still, she had promised herself she would try new things, try anything that might help her win the quiet, exhausting battle she had been fighting with depression. and this definitely counted as new. the way harrison had told her she wasn’t boring, that he didn’t waste time remembering people but somehow still remembered her, had been enough to make her heart flutter for a brief second — a feeling that caught her off guard. maybe she wasn’t as numb as she thought. as they waited in line, she stayed close at his side, still holding his hand. when he suddenly took both of hers, her eyes widened in exaggerated surprise. “harrison…” she whispered, his name barely leaving her lips. when he knelt in front of her, her heart began to race even though she knew it was all pretend. for a moment she stopped listening to what he was saying, her mind spinning through possible reactions — should she cry? laugh? hug him? could she even cry on command? but when he finally asked the big, very fake question, she nodded quickly, the widest smile spreading across her face. she leaned down without thinking and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, surprised by her own impulse before she pulled back again. wrapping her arms around his neck, she laughed breathlessly. “yes — yes, yes, yes!”

Harrison let out a low laugh when she called him out on it, that stupid, unapologetic smirk never leaving his face. He tilted his head toward her, eyes gleaming like he thrived on exactly this kind of chaos. “Regret is absolutely half the fun,” he said, dead serious in tone, which only made it worse. “The other half is the story you get to tell later to anybody willing to listen." When she joked about jail, he snorted, squeezing her arm a little tighter as if daring the universe to try him. “Please,” Harrison shot back, straight-forward as ever. “I wouldn't let you take the fall. I'd take the hit for you, promise." He noticed the way she kept glancing forward, the way she overthought everything, and for once, just once, he softened. As she mentioned tacos, specific tacos, he broke into a grin, clearly proud of himself. “Hmm, I'm good with those too” he said. “Romance, fake proposal, immediate birria. It’s a flawless system.” When she finally gave in, talking about fitting the standard of Mrs. McCall, Harrison stopped walking for half a second just to look at her. “Good,” he said plainly. “Because I’d be bored out of my mind if you tried to be anything else. I like this version of you." When she wrapped his arm around her shoulder, smooth and confident despite her doubts, Harrison didn’t hesitate. Harrison slowed just enough to dip his head toward her, shoulders angling in like he was about to share a secret he absolutely should not be sharing. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, warm against her ear, humor dancing through it. “Could I borrow one of your rings?” he murmured, barely holding back a laugh. “My plan is foul-proof. I didn’t actually bring a ring with me. i don't have one." He pulled back just enough to glance at her from the corner of his eye, smirk fully back in place, mischief written all over his face. “I need something to propose with,” he added softly, like this was the most logical solution in the world, “so we can get tacos.”

cassie couldn’t help rolling her eyes at his comment about regret being half the fun. she knew better—there was nothing fun about regret. she’d lived with enough of it to know that. still, lying on a saturday night for tacos wasn’t exactly on the same level as the things that had truly haunted her. “sure, sure,” she chuckled. “i’ll always have the story about the night i got engaged,” she added, shaking her head, half amused despite herself. they weren’t going to jail over this, but the whole show he was planning definitely hadn’t been on her bingo card for the evening. overthinking while keeping a calm demeanor was cassie’s specialty—that was how she survived, how she presented herself. “okay, for birria tacos, i’ll fake a proposal,” she nodded, glancing at him. she couldn’t believe she was agreeing to this, but it felt too late to back out now. “this version of me?” she arched a brow. “you must have a thing for boring, but sure.” when she casually guided his arm around her shoulders, she surprised even herself. as he leaned in closer, his voice warm against her ear, her heart skipped despite her effort to stay composed. she slipped one of her rings off—the one she never usually removed—and handed it to him. “don’t lose it. it was my grandma’s,” she warned lightly. then she took a breath. “so i act surprised, hug you, and we get tacos? honestly… that sounds manageable.”

Harrison’s grin widened, that mischievous curl at the corner of his mouth making it clear he was thoroughly entertained. He caught her arm sliding through his with a mock sigh, like she’d just handed him a victory he hadn’t even tried to earn. “Regret? Oh, that’s half the fun,” he said smoothly, eyes glinting with that teasing spark she already couldn’t quite read. “I like that you’re not chicken,” he added, voice low, sarcastic, but warm at the edges. “Scared enough to feel alive, but not scared enough to bail. That’s my kind of thrill.” He leaned a little closer, letting the words hang in the air like a dare, that trademark charm making it impossible for her not to smirk back. “We aren’t going to get jail time for a fake proposal, Cass,” he said, voice smooth, teasing. “We just want the benefits of some hot free food.” He tilted his head, letting the breeze play with his jacket, eyes flicking to hers like he was challenging her without saying it outright. “Where do I want to go?” he mused, the corner of his smile twitching. “Somewhere with people. Somewhere romantic. Maybe the park? Hot dogs, tacos, pretzels…” he muttered under his breath, like he was tasting them before he even moved. “Funnel cakes… maybe something with chocolate. Yeah, free food never looked so good.” He shot her a mischievous glance, all charm and teasing light in his eyes. “See? Now you get why a fake proposal is completely worth it.” Then, with a playful shove of his shoulder against hers, he added, “Come on, what do you say? Ready to Mrs McCall for a few minutes?"

as she laced her arm with his, she noticed that smirk on his lips, she shook her head at herself. "regret is half of the fun?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. she couldn't believe he was really saying that, it was the first time she had heard anyone say something like that. it was clear she was nothing like him. he looked like he owned the place like he could do anything he wanted, and get out from it without facing consequences, she thought too much and didn't have that spark, she had lost it years ago. "well, if i go to jail, you'll be the one to blame" she mused, looking at him, she knew that couldn't happen, but she kep the joke going. she looked to the frong as he planned their proposal, she tried not to laugh, it was amusing how he was coming up with that one the spot. "tacos sound like something i would enjoy after getting proposed, those that drip in birria sauce" she mused, lookin up at him. "i don't know if it's worth it, but we can try" cassie give in. "i can try fitting the standard of what mrs mccall could be for a couple of minutes" she mused, "i'm not a good actress, what you see is what you get" she mused, looking at harrison. her hand moved to hold his, and smoothly in a way she didn't know she coudl be wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "better this way, babe"

Soren shifted slightly in his seat, thoughtful, eyes on her as if he was really there with her in the moment. “I like how you say things,” he told her honestly. “You don’t push, and you don’t soften the truth just to make it easier to hear.” He smiled a little. “That makes it easier to answer you without pretending.” When she asked about living with the question every day, he nodded. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I don’t think I want to keep wondering. Hearing you say it out loud kind of… puts it in focus.” At her shrug about therapy, he let out a quiet breath of a laugh. “No, that actually makes sense,” he said. “And I meant what I said—you are strong. Not because you’re fine, but because you don’t pretend to be.” His voice softened. “I don’t see that as a flaw. I think it’s refreshing.” Her reassurance didn’t go unnoticed. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “It means a lot coming from you.” And when she mentioned fitting in, he shook his head slightly. “It wasn’t just for a little,” he replied. “You made it easy to be here. To talk.” He smiled when she said it was easy talking to him, meeting her openness with his own. “It really was,” he agreed. “I don’t feel like I had to explain myself, and that doesn’t happen often.” At her suggestion, he didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” he said simply. “I’d like that. We can text. No pressure—just… talk. Whenever.” His tone stayed warm. Soren hesitated for a second, then reached for his wallet, flipping it open with an almost absent-minded ease. He pulled out a bill, folded it once, and set it gently on the table between them, like he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. He glanced up at her, a small, warm smile tugging at his mouth. “Drink and whatever food you want today is on me,” he said lightly, almost playful, but sincere. He gave a small shrug, like he was brushing it off even though he meant it. “Think of it as my good deed for the day. Thanks for being a friend to me today."

she hadn’t expected to have a conversation with anyone that day; she’d expected to have a drink she probably wouldn’t even taste since it was her first time in that bar, then go home and maybe read, maybe dig through boxes until she found something she could unpack—without it feeling like she was unpacking her whole life, because her depression didn’t let her feel excited the way she should about a new beginning, leaving her feeling trapped inside herself with no clear way out. talking to soren had been the easiest thing she’d done since moving to euroville; he didn’t expect her to be anything she wasn’t, he wasn’t loud or overwhelming, just easy to talk to in a way that made cassie feel safe enough to open up without worrying she’d regret it later. “thanks, soren,” she nodded, a soft smile on her lips, the kind that didn’t come to cassie very often. “you made it easy to talk too—I didn’t feel pressured, it was just… nice,” she assured him. when he seemed open to keeping the conversation going, she nodded. “sounds good.” as he offered to pay for her drink, she looked at him and simply said, “thanks,” softly, choosing not to deflect it. “thanks for talking to me first,” she added, before pulling a pen from her bag and writing her number on a napkin. she stood, slipping on her long jacket, and looked back at him. “i hope you tell the girl you like what you feel—and that it’s returned,” she mused, her hand resting briefly on his shoulder. “see you around, soren… or whatever cool people say around here.”

Soren hadn’t expected the night to unfold the way it did. He’d only stopped by to clear his head, not to end up talking with a stranger who somehow felt anything but strange. Yet Cassie sat across from him, speaking with a softness that didn’t make him tense or guarded, and he found himself listening more intently than he usually allowed himself to. She didn’t push, didn’t pry — just existed opposite him. It was nice. “It’s hard not to feel like I do,” he admitted, voice low. “She’s… good. Better than most people I’ve known. I just don’t want to mess it up.” He watched her talk about therapy without shame, her honesty striking him more than she probably realised. She carried her struggles without pretending they weren’t there, and something about that transparency made him relax in a way he didn’t with most people. “I think it’s strong that you went,” he told her. “Most people pretend they’re fine. You don’t.” There was no judgment in his tone — only something warm, steady. “I probably should’ve gone a long time ago if I'm honest." She downplayed her wisdom by saying she was just repeating something her therapist once told her, and Soren huffed a quiet, almost amused breath. “Well, you repeated it at the right time,” he said. “So… thanks.” When she wished him luck a faint, embarrassed smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I hope so too,” he murmured. “Hopefully I'll be brave enough to actually tell her ... someday." When Cassie thanked him for listening, Soren lifted his gaze to her, something unguarded showing in his expression. He shook his head slowly, almost surprised she felt she owed him anything. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said, his voice low but sincere. After a moment, he added, “If anything… I should be thanking you.” He let out a quiet breath, the kind that sounded like someone admitting something they rarely said out loud. “It’s been hard trying to connect anywhere,” he confessed. “I haven’t really felt like I fit in lately.” His eyes softened, meeting hers. “So… thanks for being a friend today.” The word friend wasn’t casual coming from him — it carried weight. He gave a small, almost embarrassed huff of a laugh. “It was nice to get shit off my chest. I'd say to a stranger but you feel like more than that to me now."

cassie was transparent, what you saw was what you got with her; there was no malice, no pretending things were perfect, just rawness and quiet. she didn’t push, didn’t want to expose him or turn things loud, she just wanted a place in the world. as he talked about the girl who’d been on his mind, she leaned lightly against her chair. “i get it,” she nodded, “but do you want to live asking yourself that question every day? wondering if she likes you back or not?” she asked softly, then added, “if you’d rather know and rip the bandaid off, i would tell her.” cassie shrugged, thinking that maybe if she’d asked her old boyfriend how he felt about her leaving everything to take care of her grandpa, maybe they’d still be together, maybe they would’ve figured it out. when he said he thought she was strong because she went to therapy, she shrugged again. “we go to the doctor to check our eyesight, why not our mind?” she said. “as lame as it sounds, i don’t know how to pretend. what you see is what you get, and i don’t know if it’s obvious, but i’m not fine,” she let out a small chuckle. “maybe you’ll find the time to go someday, maybe it helps, maybe you think it won’t, but you have to do what feels right for you.” cassie smiled when he said he’d try to find the strength to tell that girl how he felt, nodding. “you’ll be fine,” she assured him. when he thanked her, she smiled again. “well, i’m glad i made you feel like you fit in, at least for a little,” she said honestly, because it felt the same to her. “it was really easy talking to you,” she added softly. “i don’t know how this usually works, if i told you about my friendships you’d probably be surprised, but if you want to do this again, any other day, maybe we could just text each other?”

Harrison followed her with that unhurried confidence of his, hands slipping into the pockets of his jacket as if he had all the time in the world. The moment she mentioned jail, he let out a low, amused laugh — the kind that warmed the edges of his voice. “Jail?” he echoed in that teasing, boyish tone, one brow lifting. “C’mon, do I look like a criminal? Actually— don’t answer that. I like keeping some mystery about me." He gave her a quick once-over as she wrapped her scarf, pretending to scrutinize her like she might be the suspicious one instead. The smirk tugging at his mouth made it clear he was enjoying himself far too much. When she started toward the exit, Harrison fell into step behind her without hesitation, weaving through the crowd with lazy ease. He watched her glance back at him — and yeah, he caught that — so he flashed her a half-smile, all charm and just a touch of mischief. “What did I have in mind?” he repeated, stepping close enough that the wind didn’t swallow his words. He nudged her shoulder lightly with his own, playful, letting the tease hang before he softened it with something gentler. “I figured we’d start easy. A walk. Fresh air. Let you catch your breath before I decide what kind of trouble you can actually handle.” His eyes lingered on her for a moment — warm, inviting, quietly intent. “Unless,” he added, tilting his head, “you’re chicken." He stepped a little closer, hands still in his pockets, voice dropping to that playful, conspiratorial tone he seemed to reserve just for teasing her. “Alright,” he said, leaning in as if sharing a secret, “how about a dare?” The corner of his mouth curled. “Let’s go to some food truck and work our charm, improv, a little harmless manipulation.” He paused, pretending to assess her with exaggerated seriousness. “Or…” The smirk returned, bigger this time. “I can fake propose to you somewhere, act all in love and we see who gives us free food. Might be nice to get some warm grub out in is cold."

there was something so inviting about him—the way he looked at her, that easy, charming smile, the way his eyes seemed to catch every little thing she did. she was about to answer his question when he stopped her, telling her not to, and she rolled her eyes in response. still, a small smile tugged at her lips, a real one, the kind she hadn’t felt in a long time—not since she lost her grandpa and grief settled in her chest like a quiet, creeping fog, always there, always reminding her she couldn’t quite be fully happy. when they stepped outside, the cold wind hit them head-on, and she wrapped her arms around herself. he moved closer without hesitation, clearly enjoying the moment, and she glanced at him as he spoke. “start easy sounds good,” she nodded, maybe that was exactly what she needed—something simple, something light, even as she tried to figure him out. when he called her chicken, her head tilted, eyes lifting to meet his blue gaze. “i’m not chicken,” she said, shaking her head. “you scare me, sure—but not enough to make me say no,” she added with a touch of sass, pushing past the tall walls she’d built around herself, wondering if playing along might help her forget the doubts and the sadness, even if only for a while. “a dare?” she echoed, brows lifting. “harmless manipulation? that sounds like i’ll end up in jail,” she teased, shaking her head at him. “and now you want to fake a proposal for free food?” she scoffed, clearly mocking him, though amusement sparkled in her eyes. without really thinking about it, she slipped her arm through his, the way couples who’d been together forever did, letting them walk side by side. she shook her head again, half-smiling. “i feel like i’m going to regret this,” she admitted, “but… where do you want to go?”

Harrison wiped down the last corner of the bar with a practiced flick of the rag, the scent of lime and old whiskey still clinging to the wood beneath his fingertips. His shift had dragged — the usual late night mix of regulars, flirts, and the occasional spilled drink — but he hadn’t forgotten. He tossed the towel into the bin behind the counter, untying his apron in one smooth motion. The dark fabric hung over his shoulder as he ducked into the back, grabbing his worn leather jacket and slinging his bag over one shoulder. Keys, phone, wallet. Done. He stepped out from behind the bar with the unhurried confidence of someone used to being watched — and sure enough, he was. A pair of girls near the jukebox glanced over, their conversation slowing. Another group by the booths followed him with their eyes, and one even nudged her friend, whispering something with a little too much volume. Harrison didn’t break stride, just offered a quick, easy smile and a nod in their direction — friendly, polite, nothing more. But he wasn’t looking for them. His gaze swept across the bar, sharp but casual, scanning faces and shoulders and silhouettes. He was looking for her — the pretty girl who said he was trouble - the one who’d told him, half-laughing and half-serious, to “look for me”. As he reached her, he leaned down just enough to brush his shoulder against hers, nudging her side with a playful grin. “Hey, trouble,” he murmured, voice low, the kind of tone that made it feel like the whole bar faded out behind them. “You wanna head out of here and cause some mischief together?” He raised an eyebrow, just a little, waiting for the spark he already knew was coming.

after a couple of minutes of telling harrison to look for her, she already regretted it; she didn’t even know how any of this worked. she had wanted to leave — maybe if she was lucky she wouldn’t see that cute bartender again — but something in her told her to stay, whether she understood why or not. she sat at a table, scanning the room: friends laughing together, girls drinking for courage, everyone tucked into their own little worlds… and she was there alone. she usually didn’t mind, but being alone here was doing something strange to her chest. she shook her head and scrolled through her phone, debating whether she should leave, but then she felt someone brush her shoulder. she glanced up and there he was — harrison, with that easy, charming smile he carried around like second nature. “depends on the kind of mischief, i don’t want to go to jail,” she said as she stood from her seat and pulled on her long coat, wrapping a brown scarf around her neck before looking at him again. “i guess i’m ready.” deep down she was scared of whatever he had in mind, even if she had been the one to tell him she was ready for it. maybe she just wanted to prove herself wrong, or maybe it was because she found him handsome, endearing, all confidence and charm in a way that made her stomach tighten. she could already feel the heat of the bar under all those layers, hating it, so she started toward the exit instead, preferring the cold that waited outside. she even glanced back at him as she walked, checking he was following. “so… what did you have in mind?”

Soren listened quietly, his posture relaxed but attentive, that steady, unreadable calm he carried making Cassie feel like she could say whatever she wanted without fear of being judged. When she teased him about not being a fan of rules, a faint, wry smile tugged at his lips. “Never been much for them,” he murmured, his tone low and even, almost amused. “They tend to get in the way of actually living.” When the conversation shifted toward him — toward the person who’d shown him the place — Soren let out a slow breath, his eyes flickering briefly to the side before returning to hers. Cassie’s words were gentle but honest, and he listened to every one of them. “Maybe you’re right,” he said after a beat, his voice thoughtful. “I guess I’ve been stuck thinking I have to prove I deserve her before she decides that herself.” His mouth twitched in a half-smile, more self-aware than self-deprecating. “Never really thought of it like that.” When Cassie mentioned her therapist, Soren gave a small chuckle, the sound quiet but genuine. “Sounds like your therapist’s smarter than most people I know,” he said. Then, after a brief pause, his tone softened. “And… maybe I should tell her. She deserves to know what she means to me — even if it scares me to say it.” His gaze lingered on Cassie for a moment longer, gratitude unspoken but clear in his expression. “Thanks,” he added quietly, meaning it. “You’ve got a way of making things sound a little less impossible.”

maybe that night cassie would write in her journal about how she had not only tried a new place but also randomly talked to a stranger, and how for once she didn’t feel like she was someone the other person had to tolerate. it was nice talking to soren — for some reason she felt like they had clicked, not in a romantic way, but in that rare, quiet way where someone simply feels familiar. he didn’t seem bothered by her presence, he spoke softly, and he never made her feel like she was being annoying. she liked that calmness he carried, or at least the part of it he was letting her see. “you don’t need to prove you deserve her,” she assured; life was already hard enough without people throwing their own stones in their own way — she had learned that the hard way. “he’s nice,” she nodded, “that’s why i think everyone should go to therapy, even for the smallest things.” she no longer felt embarrassed about it; therapy had helped her through her depression, and even if she was still there, still taking her pills and learning to adapt to a new place, she felt relieved to have someone she could vent to. “that’s all you,” she added, “i just repeated something a therapist told me once.” cassie smiled gently. “i hope that girl decides to stay when you tell her,” she said, “maybe this christmas you won’t be single.” she laughed softly, warmth touching her expression. “and… thanks for listening to me. it was nice.”

Soren listened, not with the restless energy of someone waiting for his turn to speak, but with the quiet patience that made Cassie’s words feel like they had somewhere to land. He had already noticed the way she carried herself—like a person who preferred the comfort of her own silence, only now choosing to let a little of it go. “Guess that makes me the guy who sneaks past the measuring stick every time. No one ever stopped me from getting on.” His tone wasn’t mocking, but there was a trace of mischief, a way of showing her he understood the metaphor and could sit with it. When she spoke about years lost, about care given and the void it left behind, Soren didn’t jump to fill it. He leaned back instead, considering her words, letting them linger in the air where they belonged. His gaze didn’t falter, though—it stayed on her, steady and unflinching, as if to tell her she didn’t need to shrink the weight of what she’d just shared. At her question, his expression eased, almost amused by the way she tilted the attention away from herself. “Both and neither,” he said at last, his tone quiet but sure. His eyes didn’t stray from hers. “She’s someone who’s sweet… and too good for me.” The words slipped out without the armor of a joke, without the comfort of deflection. For once, Soren didn’t try to disguise the truth in slyness or charm. He just let it rest there between them, plain and unvarnished. “I have felt lost for so long,” he admitted, voice low, almost rough at the edges. “And she… she makes me feel found. But I’m not even worthy of someone like that. And I know it.” He didn’t flinch as he said it, didn’t try to reel it back once it was out. The confession hung in the air, heavier than any silence they’d shared before, daring her to see the part of him he rarely let anyone close enough to glimpse.

the girl looked at soren in front of her, his quiet presence oddly comforting. he didn’t need to say much—there was something about him that made her feel understood. “so you’re not a fan of rules,” she said, raising her eyebrows slightly. “sometimes it’s not fair that everyone gets to live it but not you. sometimes you just need higher shoes if that means getting on,” she added with a small nod, letting out a sigh. cassie didn’t regret taking care of her grandpa when everyone else had turned their backs on him. she’d been there for the person who had loved her most. sure, she’d lost years and missed out on plenty, but she wouldn’t have done it any other way. still, she wasn’t about to let this chance meeting turn into a therapy session. when the topic shifted to the person who’d shown him the place, she leaned back slightly. “if i have to be honest—and i will—maybe you’re pressuring yourself too much,” she said softly. “if she wants to be with you and makes you feel seen, then she’s the one who gets to decide if she wants to be with you,” cassie shrugged. “even if you think she’s too good for you, if she chooses you, that means that for her, you’re good enough.” she smiled gently. “that’s something my therapist said once,” she added with a small nod. “maybe you should tell her.”

Harrison heard her words—and felt the weight of them, playful and curious, like she was tugging on a thread to see if he'd unravel. He liked that. She wasn’t just following the script—she was improvising, dancing just outside the lines. That little shrug, that soft voice, that knowing smile when she thought he wasn’t looking? Yeah, he noticed. He noticed everything. He leaned in just a little—not too much, just enough for her to feel the pull. His voice was low, smooth, amused. “You think I’m trouble?” he asked, eyebrow cocked, lips tilting into a half-grin that knew more than it let on. He let the silence stretch between them for a second, comfortable in it, like he was giving her a chance to catch her breath. Or decide if she even wanted to.“And if I am more than enough trouble…” he said, tapping a slow rhythm on the table with two fingers, “…maybe the real question is—can you keep up?” His eyes didn’t waver. They held hers like a secret. Cassie intrigued him—not just because she was clearly not used to the tension but because she didn’t run from it. She leaned in. She gave as good as she got. That wasn’t something he saw every day. “You’ve got this look in your eyes, Cassie.” His voice dropped a notch, not quite serious, not quite teasing—right in the middle. “Like you’re thinking about saying yes to something you shouldn't.” He smiled then, slow and dangerous, the kind of smile that promised exactly the kind of chaos she hinted at. “I say go for it. Worst case? You’ll end up in just the right kind of trouble.” Harrison glanced down at her drink, then up at her with that spark in his eye—the kind that said he was already halfway into whatever game she didn’t know she was playing yet. Smoothly, deliberately, he reached over and took her glass without asking, never breaking eye contact. “Hope you don’t mind,” he murmured, before taking a slow swig—just enough to make it cocky, not enough to be rude. He set it back down in front of her, just a little closer than before, like a dare. Then, leaning in with a lazy grin, he dropped the line like it had been waiting on the tip of his tongue all night. “So… after my shift,” he said, voice low, almost conspiratorial, “you game to have some fun?”

cassie could feel the air between them tightening with every word he said, like he was spinning something invisible around her, pulling her closer without even touching her. he carried himself like he’d been made for moments like this — the confidence in his voice, the way he leaned in just enough to make her forget how to breathe, the half-smile that never left his lips, daring her to keep looking. and she did. she couldn’t not. “i do think you’re trouble,” she said finally, her voice steady even as her pulse betrayed her, thudding fast against her ribs. when he asked if she could keep up, her lips curved slightly, her gaze flickering down to his mouth before meeting his again. “keeping up is something i learned how to do.” the words left her like a quiet promise, soft but certain. she didn’t know what she was doing anymore — just that she didn’t want it to stop. “sometimes you have to risk it all, try something new,” she added, the honesty slipping out before she could stop it. “maybe i’m down for a little trouble.” and then he took her drink, eyes never leaving hers, and something inside her fluttered so hard it almost hurt. “all yours,” she managed, the words coming out low, almost breathless. when he leaned in even closer, his voice a whisper of temptation, cassie’s resolve wavered, her heart a mess of adrenaline and want. she tilted her head slightly, closing the distance just enough for him to hear her. “maybe i do need someone to show me what fun looks like,” she whispered back, the corners of her lips lifting. then she stood, needing air, needing space to think before she forgot how. “i’ll be around,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “look for me.” and then she walked away, her heart still beating to the rhythm he’d set.

Soren noticed that Cassie wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but that didn’t bother him. Sitting across from her, the silence between them felt comfortable rather than awkward. He didn’t feel the need to fill the quiet with unnecessary words, and it seemed she felt the same way. She wasn’t one to talk just for the sake of it, and Soren recognised that similar quiet in himself. When Cassie nodded at his words and promised they landed, he caught the soft, subtle smile on her lips—unforced, more of a reflex than anything. He appreciated the honesty in her tone. When she spoke about the owner of the place being sweet, Soren saw it as a genuine observation rather than criticism. Her insight into people’s guarded kindness struck a chord with him. The way she reflected on society’s mistrust toward genuine niceness showed her depth. Soren understood when she talked about the pressure to keep up with everything until realising it’s impossible. Her honesty about feeling lost in recent months resonated with him; he sensed the careful way she shared her feelings without revealing too much. He admired her humor and spirit when she said they deserved a medal just for being here, trying new things despite feeling lost. Soren shrugged slightly and said with a wry grin, “Life’s crazy as shit sometimes. Sometimes you just gotta hop onto the roller-coaster and go along for the ride.” Soren took a slow sip of his drink, then glanced out the window at the busy city beyond. After a moment, he turned back to Cassie and asked, “So, you got any plans for the rest of your day? I literally just got told about this place a little while ago. I keep coming back because it reminds me of the person that told me about it.”

words had never been cassie’s forte—she was more introverted than she let on. she knew how to talk to people, she could be sharp with words when she wanted, but what she wasn’t good at was letting anyone see that side of her. soren didn’t seem bothered, though; maybe she’d finally found someone who wouldn’t rush to fill her silences or feel uneasy in them. cassie was usually crystal clear and subtle, always knowing how to move, what to say, but this was different—she was opening up to someone she barely knew, and maybe that was why it felt easier, like she could finally let out thoughts she’d carried for months. “the roller-coaster—sometimes it feels like i don’t meet the height requirement to ride it,” she joked, her eyes meeting his, amused by her own metaphor of the city as a wild ride. at his question, cassie shook her head. “no plans. i’ve been putting myself out there, trying new things. this place was on the list.” her voice flattened a little as she went on. “i spent years taking care of someone, and now that they’re gone, i feel like i lost the years where i should’ve been figuring out who i am.” she shrugged, almost brushing it off, then tilted her head slightly, curiosity slipping back into her tone. “someone who just likes really sweet things? or someone who likes sweet things while they read?”

Harrison caught the playful tension in the air—the way their eyes held each other, neither backing down, and it genuinely amused him. He hadn’t expected this kind of spark either, but he was enjoying every moment. He noticed she’d liked the drink without needing to say it, and he was glad. When she hinted at 'mistakes' to fall for, Harrison leaned in just a little, letting her know she’d definitely caught his curiosity. Whether she fully understood what she was stirring up or not, there was no turning back now. He leaned across the bar with confidence, eyes locked on hers, that grin growing wider. Introducing himself as the one and only “mistake and mayhem maker,” he enjoyed watching her reaction—the mix of amusement, surprise, and intrigue playing across her face. He sounded like trouble, sure, but trouble she might just want. And when she shook his hand softly, saying his title back to him, Harrison felt the thrill of the moment—knowing they’d both stepped into something unpredictable. Harrison smirked, his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark. “The one and only,” he said with a cocky nod. “I’m known for causing a little trouble and getting myself caught up in it all. But hey, what’s life without a little chaos?” Harrison glanced to the side, quickly checking if his bar manager was watching—but the coast was clear. Leaning forward, he hid half his face behind his hand and grinned mischievously. “So… are you trouble too, or what?”

cassie was just following what sounded right in the moment; she could feel the tension, of course she could—she wasn’t used to it, not after so many years—but maybe that was what she wanted. there was something magnetic about him, she couldn’t tell if it was his eyes, the way he spoke, or the way he moved like he owned the place. still, she was signing herself up for something with an unknown ending, and for once she let herself go—maybe that was part of why she’d moved, to find herself. when he looked around a soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips; he wasn’t supposed to be doing that while working, but it was easy to see. she knew what chaos meant, though not the kind he might imagine—she knew the chaos of being alone, of losing so much time to autopilot chores, with only her grandpa truly there. “i don’t know, you tell me,” she said softly, shrugging. when he asked if she was trouble, cassie hesitated. “i wouldn’t say i am,” she answered, “but i think you’re more than enough trouble for both of us,” she added, the sentence landing like something practiced, and it clearly suggested he had plans—probably to live up to that title.

Soren liked people. He liked conversation. Not the loud, fill-every-silence kind, but the real kind—the kind that settled into the spaces between words like a comfortable rhythm. And Cassie? She wasn’t trying too hard. She didn’t need to. That alone made her easier to talk to than most. “Yeah?” he said, leaning forward slightly. “Glad it landed. Sometimes I talk and just hope something makes sense eventually,” he added with a soft laugh. “You’ve got one of those voices, though—like if you said something didn’t make sense, I’d believe you anyway.” He grinned as she talked about the girl behind the counter, nodding along. “She is kind of like the human version of this drink,” he agreed, raising his cup slightly. “You ever meet someone who’s so nice you start wondering if they’re secretly plotting something? And then you feel guilty for even thinking that because—nope—they’re just... that nice?” He chuckled. When Cassie said, “keeping up isn’t for everyone,” Soren nodded, more thoughtful now. “No, it’s not,” he agreed. “But not everyone needs to keep up. Some people are the kind you want to slow down for.” He didn’t say it like a flirt—just an honest observation, like everything else he said. At her answer about being here for a new start, Soren’s expression softened. He didn’t pry, but he also didn’t shy away from it. “That’s a big move,” he said gently. “Crumbling’s a heavy reason, but I respect it. You didn’t sit in it. You moved. A new beginning's a start, right?" She asked if he’d been here long, and he nodded, glancing out the café window like it held a timeline. “Pretty much my whole life, yeah." Soren took a quiet sip of his drink, eyes still drifting out toward the street like the memories were just beyond the glass. Then he looked back at Cassie, his expression open, honest in that easy way he carried himself. “This place has had its ups and downs for me,” he said, his voice softer now, more grounded. “But it’s my place. I’ve loved and lost here. I’ve gained and lost again. It’s kind of become my middle ground.” He gave a small, lopsided smile, one that didn’t try to hide the weight behind his words. “Not too high, not too low. Just... steady. Familiar. There’s something comforting in that, you know? Even when things fall apart, it still feels like you can come back to something.” Then, a quick chuckle. “Kinda poetic for a guy who still gets lost on the same street twice in one week, huh? I don't get out too much. I'm more of a home body when I'm not working.”

cassie wasn’t good at conversation, but sitting in front of soren, she felt like that wasn’t a bad thing—he didn’t fill the silence, and neither did she. she wasn’t a woman of many words, and he seemed similar, or at least not someone who liked talking just to talk. she nodded at his words, “those words landed,” she promised, a soft smile tugging at her lips—not bright, just a reflex. “she’s so sweet,” cassie added, eyes now locked on the owner of the place, not as a criticism but as an observation. “we live in a society where a lot of people act nice to get something, and when someone’s actually nice, we can’t help thinking they’re plotting something,” she mused. she was good at reading people, but if she was honest, that part of it was still hard. “that’s true, but at some point we all want to keep up with everything—until you realize you can’t,” she said. “i hope it is, i’ve honestly been so lost the last couple of months i need something new, something that doesn’t remind me of who i was.” her words were calculated, letting him see who she was without giving too much away. at his mention of things not being easy for him in this city, cassie sighed; his words sounded like a poem, like an image described that she hadn’t been able to see. “home is safe, i totally get it—that’s why i’m pushing myself to try new things, discover who i am, all that crap people say in movies" cassie confessed. "but for someone who is trying to do stupid new things and someone who gets lost, we deserve a medal for being here"

Cassie noticed things—he could tell. The way her eyes tracked him, flickering down just once as he licked his lips. It wasn’t a power play on his part, not fully—it was instinct, a touch of awareness in how he carried himself. He wasn’t trying to be obvious, but he also wasn’t hiding that he found her intriguing. Her reaction, that tiny flicker of nerves in someone who clearly wasn’t used to being unsettled, told him enough. He watched as she took the first sip of the drink—his drink. That mattered. Her reaction was subtle, but it was genuine. She didn’t have to say she liked it. He saw it in the pause, in the slight softening of her gaze, the thoughtful purse of her lips. Sweet with a burn. That’s what he went for. Something that lingered. Something to be remembered. He caught the glance she gave him, that lift of her eyes after studying the cup like it held more than just liquid. That look—quiet, but loaded—landed. He didn’t need her to drool like others might have. This was different. She was different. Calm, collected, and completely aware, even as something flickered behind her cool exterior. He liked that. The towel in his hand felt like a prop now, something to keep him grounded. He leaned forward slightly, just enough to show he was tuned in. Not crowding her. Just anchoring the moment. “That depends,” he said, lips curving into a slow smile. “You looking to make another mistake… or just collect them?” She was captivating, and he knew exactly what he was doing now. Reading her, yes—but also letting himself be read. Because with her, it was already clear: honesty wrapped in charm worked better than any line ever could. “I could think of plenty mistakes for you to make with someone,” he said. Then, with that same disarming confidence, he reached across the bar, hand extended—not rushed, not overplayed, just smooth, deliberate, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment to introduce himself properly. His eyes didn’t leave hers as the corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing grin. “Hi,” he said, his tone dipped in mischief, “I’m Harrison. Your mistake and mayhem maker.” The offer of his hand was more than just polite—it was a spark, an unspoken dare. And he wondered, as she looked at him—if she’d take it. And if she did, whether she knew she’d already made the first mistake of the night.

she didn’t know who was trying harder to read the other, his eyes on hers the same way hers were on his, and honestly, it lowkey amused her. she hadn’t expected anything like this to happen if she was being honest. she’d enjoyed his drink—it was obvious without her saying a word—it had surprised her, though not as much as the fact that the bartender was actually being this nice to her when she’d first walked into the bar. when she asked about any other possible “mistakes” to fall for that night, she knew what she was hinting at—maybe she didn’t fully understand it yet—but the way he leaned in told her she’d sparked something in him. maybe curiosity, but either way, she couldn’t back out now. at his question, she raised her eyebrows, “honestly, what do you recommend?” was that her way of flirting? that playful cassie hadn’t shown up in so long. at his mention of mistakes she could choose to make with someone, her brows lifted again as she watched him make his way across the bar, his eyes locked on hers with that grin—it was clear he was enjoying himself, and she could tell. when he introduced himself as her “mistake and mayhem maker,” her brows rose in amusement, her gaze shifting from his hand back to his eyes. he sounded like trouble, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted it—but she also knew it’d be stupid not to shake his hand. “cassie,” she said softly, shaking it, “mayhem maker?” her voice carried a mix of amusement, surprise… and intrigue.

Soren didn’t move when Cassie spoke—didn’t lean away, didn’t let the silence press him back into his own thoughts. He just stayed, sitting calmly across from her like he wasn’t afraid of the edge in her voice, or the invisible wall people like her usually kept up. If anything, it made her more real to him. And Soren liked real. When she nodded at his half-admission—that he hadn’t expected to talk to anyone today except maybe a roommate—he caught the quiet understanding in her expression. That was rare. Most people either filled silence too quickly or tried to crack through it like it was something to fix. Cassie didn’t. She let it exist. Soren’s lips lifted in a subtle, amused smile at her description of the town. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Euroville’s sneaky that way. Looks like it’s made for postcards, but it’s got this... pulse. Like it’s always awake, even when everything’s quiet.” He followed her glance toward the girl behind the counter and let out a short breath of laughter. “Yeah, she's cute, huh? She loves this place, I bet." Cassie’s question made his eyebrows lift slightly——and for a second, Soren looked thoughtful, eyes flicking toward the window. “Don’t try to keep up with it,” he said after a beat. “That’s the trick. Euroville moves fast, but it’s not asking you to match it. It just wants you to watch. Take what you need. Let the rest blur past. You don't have to be everything or everywhere." He paused, glanced at her cup, then back up at her. His mouth twitched into the beginnings of a grin. “You’ll be fine. I promise. Do you know anyone else around here or is it just a new beginning?"

cassie was used to silence. she lived alone—no tv, just the radio when she drove from one place to another, even though walking through the streets and along the canals was usually easier. she liked silence. if you couldn’t fill it with something good, it was better to just let it be. she didn’t think the guy now sitting across from her was going to ruin that; he seemed quiet too. there was something comforting about their interaction, like looking at a softer reflection of herself. "that’s the best way of describing it," she said, "i didn’t know how to put words to it, but that’s it," she added calmly, a faint smile on her lips as she took a sip of her drink. "she’s cute, i can see why this is her favorite. it’s sweet—way too sweet. honestly, that’s probably how you could describe her too. not in a bad way, just... so cheerful and sweet that people want to keep coming back," she mused, her eyes shifting from the girl to the guy in front of her. "keeping up isn’t for everyone," she nodded. cassie wasn’t the kind of person who pushed for things she didn’t believe in. she had believed in her grandpa, and that was enough once. the rest had faded into the background. she wasn’t going to try too hard for a place that might not be permanent. when he asked her why she was there, she raised her brows. "new start," she nodded, "i needed a change. life was kind of crumbling around me," she shrugged. "you’ve been living here long?"