The clatter of plates and the soft murmur of conversation filled the Paper Lantern, but Warren Peace barely heard any of it.

His jaw was tight, his movements sharper than usual as he carried a tray of steaming dishes to a nearby table. The words from earlier that afternoon still echoed in his mind—a snide comment from a smug customer about how he’d “never be more than his father’s shadow.”

It wasn’t the first time someone had brought up his infamous lineage, but for some reason, today, it hit harder.

With a frustrated sigh, Warren wiped his hands on his apron and leaned against the counter, trying to steady his simmering frustration.

Fire and emotion went hand in hand for him, and he couldn’t risk losing control here. Not at the Paper Lantern, where he actually liked working and where his mom would kill him if he torched anything.

And then he saw you.

You were sitting at a booth near the window, completely absorbed in the menu as the sunlight caught in your hair.

Warren froze, his heart skipping a beat. Of all the people to show up today, it had to be you—his classmate and, admittedly, the person he’d been quietly crushing on for months.

You were the one bright spot in his otherwise stormy afternoon.

His lips quirked into a rare smile as he watched you frown slightly at the menu, clearly debating your order. The weight in his chest eased just a little.

Sure, he could still feel the sting of those earlier words, but seeing you here made it easier to brush them aside. Warren straightened his posture, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face.

"Focus, Peace," he muttered to himself, but his feet were already moving toward your table, tray in hand and nerves bubbling under his calm exterior.

Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all..