Darian hadn't meant to stay late in the workshop, but that's how evenings usually went for him.
Quiet. Predictable. Tools put back in their exact places. A soft hum of music drifting from the old radio on the shelf. No one asking for anything, no chatter just the steady rhythm of work.
He'd told himself he'd stop after finishing the last measurement.
Then after finishing the last note.
Then after rechecking the railing specs on Mira's latest sketch.
(Which he definitely wasn't staring at longer than necessary. He just… wanted to be sure the angles made sense.)
He was leaning over the workbench, pencil against his lip, when he heard footsteps behind him. A familiar voice followed.
"You're still here? Of course you are."
Landon,his cousin walked in without knocking, like always. Two years older, annoyingly perceptive, and forever convinced Darian needed "more of a life."
Darian didn't look up. "Hello to you too."
Landon snorted. "You can greet me properly after you put that pencil down. Seriously, it's festival week. People are out. Music is playing. The town actually looks alive for once and you're here counting lines."
"I'm not counting lines." Darian marked a point. "I'm checking structural integrity."
"Which can wait." Landon stepped closer, folding his arms. "Come out. One drink. A little air. You look like you've been breathing sawdust all day."
"I like sawdust," Darian said dryly.
Landon just stared.
Darian sighed. "Fine. One drink. And then I'm coming right back."
"Sure," Landon said way too quickly. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
The Outfit
He didn't dress up, not exactly, he just didn't dress down either.
He pulled on a clean charcoal crewneck, sleeves pushed up just enough to show the veins in his forearms. Dark trousers. A leather belt he'd had forever. His boots—polished, but lived-in.
The watch was simple, silver, nothing flashy.
But everything fit him just right.
Clean. Quiet. Effortlessly expensive without trying.
He looked like someone who didn't need to prove anything.
Someone who knew exactly who he was.
At the Bar
The place was already warm with sound when they stepped inside—laughter, clinking glasses, low guitar music humming from the small stage. Tables were full, people from town packed shoulder-to-shoulder, excitement buzzing under the dim lights.
Elijah spotted them almost instantly.
"There he is!" Elijah waved them over. "Could've sworn you'd ditch us again."
Darian slid into the booth beside Landon. "I was forced."
Calum laughed. "By who? The spirits of social life?"
"By me," Landon said proudly. "You're welcome."
The server brought their drinks, and the conversation settled into easy rhythms work jokes, festival talk, Elijah arguing about whose mother made the best cornbread in town.
It was mid-laugh that Darian's gaze drifted toward the door.
And paused.
Mira stepped in.
Not stiff. Not city-serious. Not professionally guarded.
Just… Mira. But different.
Hair loose. A soft, fitted top tucked into a skirt that moved when she did. Something warm and open in her expression as she spoke to Zuri.
She didn't even look like she was trying, and she still stood out.
Darian blinked, then looked away before Elijah noticed him staring.
He didn't expect her to be here.
She didn't seem like the bar type.
She seemed like the "read at home with tea and a blanket" type.
Or the "organized planner with color-coded tabs" type.
Not… this.
But maybe he didn't know her as much as he assumed.
Zuri Spots Them First
Zuri's eyes lit up the second she saw Elijah.
"Well if it isn't trouble himself!" she called, strutting over without hesitation. "I knew I'd catch you here."
Elijah grinned, opening his arms. "Zuri, my favorite hurricane."
They hugged like old friends, and Zuri immediately turned toward Mira.
"Mira…come on."
Darian's eyes flicked up just long enough to meet Mira's.
She nodded politely. "Evening."
Before she could retreat, Elijah leaned forward. "Join us! C'mon, there's space."
Mira lifted her hand slightly, that polite, collected refusal on her lips:
"Oh…thank you, but we wouldn't want to inconvenience…"
"We'll join," Zuri cut in cheerfully, already sliding into the booth.
Mira stopped mid-sentence.
Darian almost…almost…smirked.
Calvin arrived a minute later, which made the seating shift again, laughter mixing into the group instantly. Mira ended up next to Zuri, across from Darian but not too close.
She looked like she was still deciding whether she regretted being here.
At the Table
Calum kept the conversation alive, bouncing between stories, teasing Landon, nudging Zuri, dragging Mira into the fun without overwhelming her.
Whenever someone teased Mira about city life, she shot back with a smart, controlled clapback that made Elijah whistle and Calum grin.
Zuri told an exaggerated story of almost getting trampled by goats during last year's festival.
Landon claimed that was nothing compared to Darian getting chased by hens when he was eight.
"That didn't happen," Darian said calmly.
"It absolutely did," Zuri said.
Mira covered her mouth, clearly trying not to laugh.
Darian wasn't used to her laughing around him.
It threw him off more than he expected.
The Bonfire
Later, the festival crowd drifted toward the giant bonfire at the center of town, flames crackling into the cold night air.
People formed circles around it, talking, sipping cider, watching sparks float upward into the dark.
Mira walked a little ahead with Zuri and Calvin.
Darian hung back at first with Elijah and the others until somehow he found himself beside her again.
They stood there for a moment, the warmth of the fire touching their faces.
He spoke first.
"You don't seem the type."
She arched a brow. "To what?"
"Go to bars."
He shrugged. "Or festivals. Or sit with loud people."
Mira smirked, crossing her arms. "And what type do I seem like?"
"The planner type."
He said it casually.
"The color-coordinated type."
She laughed softly. "Wow. You really have me figured out, don't you?
He shrugged with one shoulder. "You just… feel like someone who avoids loud places. I might be wrong."
She looked back at the fire. "Sometimes I do. Tonight didn't feel like one of those nights."
"Fair enough," he said.
A few voices rose from the other side of the circle, someone laughing too loudly, someone calling for another song. Mira shifted her weight. Darian didn't fill the silence, didn't try to. It wasn't uncomfortable just quiet.
"You don't seem like someone who enjoys these things either," she said.
He huffed a small breath. Not quite a laugh. "I don't. Still ended up here."
"That makes two of us."
A spark popped in the fire, and they both glanced at it out of reflex. No eye contact, no charged moment,just two people standing in the same place, existing beside each other without trying too hard.