It was perfect—quiet, unhurried, open to the stars—and simple in a way that still felt like a gift.
They chose a table near the railing, where the breeze slipped through unhindered, carrying with it the mouthwatering scent of grilled fish, roasted vegetables, and spices. Logan let out a breath, letting the night fold around him, the worries and noise of the bar falling away.
Across the table, Adrian leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly drumming against the wood, his eyes catching the light and holding it there—not sparkling exactly, but alive with something bright and almost secretive. And somehow, even though they had just met, Logan felt as if they’d stepped into a different world entirely—one carved out of salt air and soft smiles and the slow, sweet ache of something beginning.
Two menus were set before them, but Adrian was hardly aware, lost in the pull of Logan’s presence, a magnetic warmth that seemed to hold the room itself still. Adrian watched, captivated by the way Logan’s silver-gray eyes glinted in the dim light, occasionally darting up to catch him looking, then dipping back to the menu. His gaze wandered, resting on Logan’s mouth, which softened when he spoke, and on his grayish-blue shirt that accentuated the lovely gray tones of his eyes. The shirt clung to his wide frame, enhancing his intensity. A flash of humor danced through Adrian’s mind:who on earth had gray eyes?
“What’re you having?” Logan asked, setting his menu down with a satisfied thud. “I’m going for the fried fish plate,” he continued, a grincurling at the edge of his mouth. “Fries on the side. Maybe the poke bowl, too, why not? And whatever beer they have on tap.”
“Sounds good, I’ll have the same,” Adrian replied easily, setting his own menu aside, though he hadn’t really looked at it. The truth was, he would have ordered anything Logan chose. His focus wasn’t on the food, not really. It kept slipping back to Logan, to the way the ocean breeze lifted the collar of his shirt, to the way the dim candlelight carved soft gold into the strong lines of his face.
Logan, for his part, was now eyeing the small candle flickering between them, housed in a simple glass cup. Without warning, Logan reached across and pinched the flame dead between his fingers. Adrian’s hand flew to his mouth, stifling a laugh that spilled over in bursts. He shook, barely breathing from laughter, the absurdity of the gesture catching him off guard. “What?” Logan asked, his brows drawing together in mock confusion, though a smile tugged insistently at his lips.
“You—” Adrian gasped between laughs, wiping at his eyes as if it would somehow stop the tidal wave of joy rolling through him. “You couldn’t leave the candle alone, could you?”
Logan’s half-smile finally broke into full laughter, deep and rough and entirely contagious. They leaned into it, the two of them caught in a shared, fleeting weightlessness, the kind of laughter that felt as if it had been waiting for them all night, tucked in the folds of the dark, waiting for the right moment to unfold.
“Fuck you,” Logan smirked, pointing across the table at Adrian, who only laughed harder.
As their laughter faded, leaving a faint warm glow in its wake, Adrian’s gaze settled on the man across from him, a stranger yet so oddly familiar. He knew almost nothing about him, yet the pull was undeniable.
“So, what do you do for a living?” Adrian asked, curiosity lacing his voice.
“Nothing.” Logan shrugged, an easy roll of his eyes and a smirk playing at his lips. “Just graduated with my master’s… what, two days ago? Lost track of time.” He rubbed his neck absently. “Anyway, I graduated, packed a bag, and now… well, now I’m here.”
Adrian leaned forward, intrigued. “Just like that? No plans, no deadlines?”
“Yup.” Logan exhaled, eyes drifting past Adrian, as though seeing the open road. “I worked a bit through undergrad and grad school, but nothing serious. I had a job lined up… but I kind of ran away from it.” A faint shadow crossed his face, like the brush of a cloud against the sun. “Guess it can wait.”
“What did you study?”
“Business administration and economics.”
Adrian’s eyebrows lifted. “Wow, that sounds—”
“Boring?” Logan cut in, a sly smile tugging at his mouth.
“Actually, I was going to say challenging.” Adrian chuckled. “Did you enjoy it?”
Logan shrugged, the easy grin slipping into something a little wryer. “Not really. College was alright, but business?” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Econ was fine, I guess. But it was hard to care about supply and demand curves when all I really wanted was to be by the ocean.” He grinned then, the boyish light returning to his eyes.
“I get that,” Adrian replied, grinning back. “But somehow, I can picture you as the math type.”
“Ugh, no way.” Logan threw his head back, groaning with mock agony. “Three classes of math were all it took. I swear, I almost tried bribing my professors just to survive. But chemistry was the real nightmare. I stared at my professor so blankly that she thought I was having a stroke.”
Adrian laughed, the sound rich, filling the air between them. He watched Logan talk, every gesture animated, his bright smile radiating. It sent a quiet thrill through Adrian’s chest, one he couldn’t explain. He felt it deep, the kind of stirring that crept in when least expected, the kind that lingered.
Logan’s voice softened, and he looked at Adrian with a spark that felt like a secret shared. “But hey, at least marketing and trading, stocks… they made sense. Sort of.”
Adrian nodded, though he hardly heard the words, his thoughts swirling, caught in the rare, perfect alchemy of this moment. The restaurant faded into a blur, leaving only the two of them at that little table, framed by the hum of the sea beyond.
The waitress arrived, setting their plates down with a clink and a flourish, the scents of char-fried fish and crispy fries enveloping them. They dug in, speaking here and there, casual exchanges drifting across the table like leaves caught in a gentle current.
When Logan excused himself to the restroom, Adrian watched him go, feeling a slight hollow where Logan’s presence had been. He called the waitress over. “Excuse me,” he murmured, a half-smile at his lips. “Do you happen to have a lighter?”
“Of course,” she replied, reaching into her pocket and handing him a small silver lighter. Adrian flicked it, the tiny flame dancing to life. He leaned forward, lighting the candle that sat between them, feeling a flicker of his own satisfaction as the soft light settled over the table once more. He returned the lighter, exchanging a quick word of thanks as she cleared their empty plates.
Moments later, Logan returned, pausing ever so slightly when his gaze fell on the candle, its flame casting a golden halo that seemed to draw his attention. He shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck.
