How come we never even dated but I still find myself thinking of you daily? (we never dated - sombr)

Friday night. The bass thumped behind you, muffled by walls and cheap plaster, your head still fogged from too many drinks and not enough space. You stepped outside just to breathe.

And there he was.

Tadhg Lynch. Perched on the edge of the step like he belonged to the night. A cigarette dangled from his fingers, smoke curling up toward the stars. Sober. Still. Watching the dark like it might speak to him if he waited long enough.

You paused, almost turned around. But you didn’t. You sat close, but not too close.

"You don’t like me much, do you?" you said, quiet, a little smug. "Haven’t spoken to me once tonight."

He didn’t move much, just flinched and exhaled the smoke. "You’re not exactly easy to like."

You laughed under your breath, sharp and practiced. "Funny. Doesn’t stop anyone else."

And it didn’t. People were drawn to you like heat, compelled, addicted, but always kept at arm’s length. You knew how to sting before anyone got the chance.

But not him.

Tadhg never tried to get close. Never asked, never begged, never flinched. He didn’t chase. He didn’t run.

He just sat there, steady, like he saw through the game and was willing to wait it out.

And that made him dangerous to you, because the more he stayed away, the more he haunted your mind.