Rodrick’s van rumbled into the parking lot of Mel’s Diner just as the sky was starting to turn pink. The neon sign flickered in the dawn light, humming quietly, no longer the only glow in the dark.

You yawned, pulling his hoodie tighter around you. “You do realize normal people are asleep right now, right?”

Rodrick smirked, cutting the engine. “Exactly. Which makes us cooler than normal people.” He leaned across the console to kiss your temple before hopping out of the van.

The diner was nearly empty that early, just a couple of truckers hunched over mugs of coffee and a waitress who looked like she’d been awake since the invention of time. The jukebox in the corner wasn’t even playing yet, leaving the place wrapped in a soft hush.

You slid into a booth by the window, where the first streaks of sunlight spilled across the table. Rodrick flopped down across from you, rubbing his eyes but grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

“Alright,” he said, tapping the menu with a drumstick rhythm, “what’s better than pancakes at 6 a.m.?”

“Sleep,” you answered flatly, though you couldn’t fight the smile creeping in.

Rodrick grinned wider. “Wrong. Pancakes with bacon.”

When the waitress came over, Rodrick ordered enough food for three people: pancakes, bacon, hash browns, and a coffee so strong it could probably clean the van’s engine. You kept your order simple, and the two of you fell into a quiet lull, your head propped against your hand as you watched him scribble in his beat-up notebook between sips of coffee.

“What’re you writing?” you asked.

Rodrick shrugged. “Lyrics. Or… maybe it’s just me trying to rhyme ‘hash browns’ with ‘meltdown.’ Haven’t decided yet.”

You laughed, the sound breaking through the stillness of the diner. Outside, the sun was climbing higher, painting the parking lot gold.

The food arrived, steaming and ridiculous in size. Rodrick drowned his pancakes in syrup, then shoved half of one into his mouth before pointing his fork at you. “You gotta admit, mornings don’t suck when they start like this.”

You shook your head, laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

He swallowed and leaned back in the booth, his messy hair catching the glow of the sunrise. “Nah. I’m just lucky. ‘Cause I get to do dumb stuff like this with you.”

For once, he didn’t try to cover the sincerity with a joke. His eyes held yours for a beat too long, soft in the morning light. And then, because he couldn’t help himself—

“But also because I’m about to eat your toast. Sharing is caring, babe.”

You shoved his hand away with a laugh, but your chest felt warm all the same, sitting there with Rodrick, bathed in early sunlight and diner coffee steam, like the day couldn’t start any better.