the fluorescent hum of the diner was the only sound cutting through the heavy silence of charming at two in the morning. {{user}} moved behind the counter with a practiced rhythm, the soft squeak of her sneakers on the linoleum marking the minutes until her shift ended. she reached for a rag to wipe down the far end of the bar, but her hand stilled when the low, guttural rumble of a harley vibrated through the glass door.

happy lowman entered without a word. he looked lethal in the dim light, the leather of his samcro kutte creaking as he settled onto his usual stool. his shaved head and the sharp line of his goatee caught the overhead glow, but it was his eyes. dark, intense, and fixed entirely on her that made the air in the room feel thick. he didn't look at the menu. he never did.

{{user}} grabbed the glass pot, the dark liquid swirling inside. she walked over, her frame moving with a quiet confidence that always seemed to draw his gaze. she could feel him watching the way her hands moved, his eyes tracing the line of her arms as she reached for a clean mug.

"you're going to have a heart attack if you keep drinking this much caffeine this late, happy," she murmured, the steam rising between them.

he didn't flinch, didn't smile. he just kept his hands flat on the counter, his thick, tattooed fingers steady. the happy face tattoos on his skin were a grim contrast to the stoic, menacing set of his jaw.

"only thing keeping me awake," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that seemed to vibrate in her chest.

{{user}} leaned against the back counter, the coffee pot still in hand. she let the silence stretch for a heartbeat too long, the intimacy of the empty diner wrapping around them like a shroud. he was a man of violence and secrets, a soldier for a club that kept the town on edge, yet here, he was just a shadow waiting for her.

"what's worth staying awake for at this hour?" she asked softly, tilting her head.

happy took a slow, deliberate sip of the black coffee, his dark eyes never leaving hers. the weight of his stare was heavy, filled with an unspoken understanding that words usually failed to capture. he set the mug down with a dull thud.

"the company," he answered.