Alexander hadn't planned to be out this late.
The burger joint wasn't anything special—greasy tables, a neon sign that buzzed like it was on its last leg, and fries that were way too salty. But it was open late, and sometimes that was enough.
He sat at a corner booth, hood pulled up, nursing a soda while flipping through his phone. He'd finished the last of the engine adjustments on the BMW earlier and hadn't felt like going back to the dorm just yet. The place was half-empty, quiet except for the hum of a fryer and the scratchy music playing from an old speaker overhead.
Then the door opened, letting in a cold breeze.
And her.
Elena walked in, clutching a small paper list, her hair loose and slightly wind-tangled. She scanned the menu with a distracted frown, not even noticing him at first.
Of course she was here.She probably looked just as out of place at this hour as he did.
She didn't spot him until she stepped up to the counter. Her eyes flicked over the empty booths, landing on him.
There was a brief moment—like the half-second before a spark catches—where she blinked, processing.
Then she smiled.
"Alex?"
He raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in his seat. "Elena."
She walked over, slipping her phone into her hoodie pocket. "Didn't think I'd see you here."
"Same. Midnight burger run?"
She laughed, shaking her head. "Roommate cravings. Apparently, I'm the designated snack delivery service tonight." She gestured at his drink. "And you?"
"Needed to get out," he said simply, taking another sip.
She tilted her head, studying him for a second. "Mind if I sit?"
"Sure," he said, nodding toward the seat across from him.
For a while, it was just small talk. She complained about her roommate's obsession with late-night snacks. He teased her about how seriously she took grocery lists. But then, as the minutes slipped by, the conversation shifted.
Not abruptly.
Just… naturally.
"So," she said, leaning forward on her elbows, "why do I get the feeling you're the kind of guy who avoids people on purpose?"
Alexander chuckled softly. "What makes you think that?"
"Because I've seen you around campus. You're friendly enough when people talk to you, but you don't really… stay. Like you've got your own little orbit."
He smirked, not denying it. "Maybe I just like my own space."
"Or maybe," she countered, "you don't want to let people in."
He didn't answer right away. She was looking at him like she actually wanted to understand, not like she was picking apart a mystery.
Finally, he said quietly, "Most people don't stick around anyway. So I don't see the point."
Her eyes softened. "You think I'd just disappear?"
Alexander held her gaze. "No. You don't seem like the type."
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it felt heavier—in a good way. Like they were finally saying things that mattered.
"Sometimes I think I'm the opposite," Elena admitted, her voice low. "I let people in too easily. And then I wonder why I get hurt when they don't stay."
He frowned slightly. "Who hurt you?"
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Oh, you know. The usual. Boys with pretty words and short attention spans."
Alexander's jaw tightened. "Then they were idiots."
She looked at him for a long moment, like his words were more than she expected. More than anyone had ever said.
And just like that, something shifted again.
Quiet. Unspoken. But there.
By the time she stood to grab her takeout bag, the air between them felt different.
"Thanks for the company," she said, her voice softer than before.
He gave her a small smile. "Anytime."
And as he watched her leave, he knew—without a doubt—that whatever this was, it wasn't just casual anymore.
He wasn't ready to say it.Neither was she.
But they both knew.