The storm outside didn’t let up. The kind of storm that felt like it was trying to swallow the whole town whole. The power went out a while ago, leaving Dot’s diner plunged into darkness, save for the occasional flash of lightning that lit up the walls.

It was just the two of you now, tucked behind the bar, sitting on the floor with your backs against the counter.

Dodge wasn’t saying much, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it almost felt like you could hear the soft pulse of each other’s thoughts. The kind of silence that only came when the world outside was louder than the one inside.

He held the flashlight in one hand, its weak beam flickering as he rested it on the floor between you. Every now and then, the beam would catch his face, and for a second, you’d see him clearer than usual.

The storm outside made his features sharp, his jaw tense. But in the darkness of the diner, with only the storm and your breath to fill the space, something softened in him.

“You ever think about leaving?” he asked, eyes distant as he traced the edge of the flashlight with his thumb. It wasn’t a casual question. There was weight behind it. A pause stretched between the words. “I mean, this place? This job? Feels like we’re just treading water, you know?”

You were used to working together at Dot’s, the late-night shifts that no one else wanted. The greasy smell of the kitchen, the hum of the soda machine, the quiet mutterings of the old jukebox. But tonight, everything felt different. The quiet was heavier, like the storm had cracked open something unspoken between you.

“I used to think getting out of here would solve everything,” he continued, shifting slightly, pulling his knees up to his chest. “But I don’t think I have a plan anymore. All I know is… I’m here. And I don’t really want to be anywhere else right now.”

His voice was quieter now, vulnerable in a way that made the air feel thick. He turned his head, looking at you through the dim glow of the flashlight. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—a raw honesty that felt strange, yet right. His mouth parted slightly, like he wanted to say more but was trying to find the right words.

A beat passed, the storm outside rattling the windows, the occasional roll of thunder mixing with the static of the old diner. Dodge’s breath hitched for a moment, like he was deciding whether to say the next part.

“And then there’s you,” he murmured, voice quieter still. “I don’t know what it is. But whenever I’m with you… I just stop thinking. Like, everything makes sense. But it also doesn’t. You make this place feel a little less small, a little less… trapped.”

He shifted again, drawing closer, his knee brushing against yours. His eyes stayed locked on yours now, a hint of something more in his gaze. That slow, deliberate pause again, as if trying to figure out whether he should let the words slip.

And then, he leaned in, just an inch. He didn’t rush it. His lips barely parted as he lowered his face toward yours, but he stopped just short. His breath warmed your skin, and you could feel the weight of his gaze lingering there.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” he asked, voice low and soft, like the question was just as much for him as it was for you.

His eyes stayed on yours, full of hesitation, but the distance between your faces grew smaller, the quiet storm outside no longer loud enough to drown out the thundering in his chest.