You always were the one person in Haven who could keep up with Duke Crocker — sharp-tongued, clever, and just reckless enough to make things interesting.

Nate warned you about him, over and over. Duke ignored those warnings, over and over.

After all, you’re not just Nate’s little sister anymore — you’re smart, dangerous in your own way, and not afraid to challenge Duke, even when no one else dares.

Whether it’s helping him sneak out of a tight spot, challenging him at the bar with a drink and a smirk, or watching each other’s backs when things get strange in Haven (and they always do)… there’s something between you two that neither of you has quite named yet.

But Duke feels it. Every damn time you look at him like you see more than the bad guy the town whispers about.

And despite everything — the past, the Troubles, Nate — he keeps finding reasons to be near you.

The storm outside is brutal — sheets of rain hammering Haven’s streets as lightning streaks the sky. Inside the Grey Gull, it’s quiet, dimly lit. Duke stands behind the bar, counting cash, pretending not to watch the clock.

The door slams open hard enough to rattle the frame. You storm in, soaked, cheeks flushed from wind and fury. Duke looks up, startled for just a second, before setting the money aside.

“Well. Either the world’s ending or your dad opened his mouth again.”

You don’t laugh. You don’t even smirk. Just head straight to the bar, drop onto a stool, and grab the nearest bottle of rum.

Duke raises a brow but says nothing — just watches you pour yourself a heavy glass, hands trembling slightly.

“Let me guess,” he says after a beat. “He tried to play hero again? Or was this one of his greatest hits — ‘you’re not like Nathan, stop chasing storms, you’ll get yourself killed’?”

There’s no heat in his voice — just quiet understanding. Duke Crocker knows what it’s like to have a father who casts a long shadow.

He leans forward slightly, voice low, steady.

“You wanna talk about it? Or just get drunk and pretend Haven doesn’t exist for one night?”

He pauses, eyes locked on yours.

“I’m good at both.”