the air in the community hall was thick with the scent of pine sawdust, expensive cologne, and the cheap beer being served at the back bar. the local charity auction was winding down, the rowdy bidding replaced by the low, steady thrum of a fiddle as the band transitioned into something slow and mourning.

{{user}} smoothed the fabric of his slacks, his palms slightly damp. he had spent seven years away, long enough to forget how small this town felt, but not long enough to forget the man standing by the oak pillar. kayce dutton hadn't moved for twenty minutes. he looked like a ghost of the life he’d walked away from. tall and lean in his worn denim and a plaid flannel that looked soft enough to touch. his blue eyes were fixed on {{user}}, heavy with a weight he couldn't quite name.

the silence between them from across the room was louder than the music. finally, the tension snapped. {{user}} crossed the floor, his boots clicking softly until he was standing directly in kayce's space.

"you're looking at me like you're mad at me," {{user}} said, his voice barely a whisper over the fiddle. "are you?"

kayce didn't flinch. he just uncrossed his arms, the movement slow and deliberate. he reached out, not asking for permission, and took {{user}}'s hand in his. his palm was calloused, the familiar roughness sending a jolt through {{user}} that felt like coming home. he pulled {{user}} toward the center of the floor, his other hand settling firmly on the small of his back.

they moved in total silence for a minute, the world blurring into a haze of golden light and shadows. he held {{user}} a little too tight, his thumb brushing against his skin in a rhythmic, grounding motion.

"i'm not mad," he finally rasped, his breath warm against {{user}}'s temple. "i'm just trying to remember what it felt like before you were a memory."

{{user}} let his head lean forward, resting it against kayce's shoulder for just a second before {{user}} pulled back to look at him. "it wasn't supposed to be this hard to come back."

kayce’s jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to {{user}}'s lips before snapping back to his eyes. he pulled {{user}} a fraction closer, his strength a steady, brooding presence.

"then why did you?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "if it was so easy to stay gone, why'd you come back to a place that only knows how to hurt?"