Bowen, or more commonly known as Burke, to well, anybody that knew him, knew this was probably a mistake. He felt pretty shitty, but he couldn’t help but give in to his own urges.

He was out with his friends, looking for somewhere to eat, over on their side of town—the poshie side, as the Saint Mary’s kids from the other side of town would call it. But he had suggested a detour down to the “crappy” side of town, as his friends would joke. There’s a nice spot down there, Burke had recommended. Nice and cheap, he had said. God, did he regret that now.

He only wanted to go down there for one reason. And it wasn’t for the food. It was for the girl who waitressed there. The girl who worked to survive. He didn’t know much about her. Only that she’d gotten a scholarship to Kilcareen College years ago, and was always the quiet soul in the back of his classes. But lately, they had gotten closer, much to both of their dismays. They hadn’t told anyone. She was the outcast. The poor one. The one who had earned the scholarship.

But it was too late to turn back now. Him and his friends were there, eating, their order taken by none other than her. The girl who had haunted his mind for months. Those eyes, always distant, as if she weren’t fully there. He’d never seen anything more beautiful.

As they finished eating, Burke cleared his throat and told his friends he’d cover the check. He didn’t really want to, but he knew this was his only chance to talk to her. She was cleaning the countertops, humming to herself. He walked up, hands shoved in his pockets, rugby jersey hanging proudly off his broad shoulders. “Hello, {{user}},” he murmured softly, his stone-faced expression still in place. “I’d like to pay, if that’s okay.” A subtle glint of endearment flickered in his eyes.