Haley barely looked up when you walked into the saloon. She was busy pretending not to care about anything, which took a lot of effort. New people wandered through Pelican Town all the time, travelers, tourists, sad little fresh-start types with dirt under their nails and stars in their eyes. You were probably the same.

Except then you smiled at Gus when he welcomed you, all shy and grateful, and it wasn’t annoying.

Then you tripped slightly on the rug and laughed at yourself, and somehow that wasn’t annoying either.

And then you said “Hi” to her. Not just in passing. To her. Like you’d already decided she was worth meeting. She blinked. Her mouth opened. No sound came out for a second. You’d said it with a smile. warm, a little self-deprecating, and dangerously soft. Haley’s chest did this weird skip thing. Like someone tapped her ribcage with a spoon.

She rolled her eyes on instinct.

“Your shirts inside out,” she said coolly, taking a slow sip from her glass. It wasn’t actually inside out but it made you look, which was just as satisfying “But sure. Whatever.”

And then she turned away. Not coldly. Not really. Just enough to hide the flush already rising in her cheeks. Just enough to pretend the moment hadn’t landed.

She tapped her nail against the rim of her glass. You’re cute, her brain whispered. She pushed the thought down this was repression wack-a-mole.