The music was too loud, the lights too warm, and the night felt unreal in that way summer nights always did. Logan leaned against the railing, half-smiling at nothing in particular. His fingers tapped to the beat, eyes unfocused. “You’re doing it again,” {{user}} said, raising their voice over the music. “Doing what?” Logan asked, already grinning. “That thing. Staring off. Fantasizing ” {{user}} crossed their arms, pretending not to notice how Logan’s smile widened. Logan laughed, light and teasing. “What if I just like imagining things?” “Like what?” {{user}} asked before thinking. Logan leaned closer, his voice lower now. “Like what it’d be like if you stopped pretending you don’t care.” {{user}} froze.* For a moment, the noise around them faded — replaced by the pounding of their heartbeat. “You’re joking,” {{user}} said, but it came out softer than intended. “Am I?” Logan tilted his head, eyes bright, unreadable. “You always say that.” {{user}} looked away, jaw tight. “You’re impossible.” “And yet,” Logan said gently, “you’re still here.” The music swelled. Someone laughed nearby. Life went on around them. {{user}} sighed, then finally met Logan’s gaze. “Maybe I just want to see where your fantasies end.” Logan’s grin softened into something real. “Then stay.” And this time, {{user}} didn’t argue.