The morning began like any other.
Elena wiped down the cafe counter, the scent of roasted beans mingling with warm bread rising from the oven. Sunlight spilled through the glass, turning the air golden. Outside, townsfolk moved at their usual pace; fishermen pulling in their nets, children chasing one another down the street, and vendors calling out their wares.
It should have been ordinary. Predictable. Safe.
But something in Adrian's silence told her it wasn't.
He had come in early, earlier than usual, taking his seat at the window with no book, no notebook, not even the casual warmth he usually carried in his expression. His coffee sat untouched before him, steam curling upward, forgotten.
Elena approached him with her careful smile. "Rough morning?"
His gaze lifted to hers, and in it she saw not weariness but distance. The kind of distance that felt wider than miles.
"I have to leave soon," he said quietly, his voice low enough that no one else could hear.
The words struck harder than she expected. Her hand tightened around the tray she carried. "You have to leave?"
"My leave is almost up." He paused, then added, "Orders came sooner than I thought."
For a moment, the cafe sounds dimmed. The laughter of customers, the hiss of steam, the scrape of chairs. It all faded until only those words echoed. Leave. Orders. So soon.
Elena forced herself to breathe. "How many days do you have left?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. It could be a few days. Could be a week."
Her chest ached with something sharp and unfamiliar. She had always known this part of him; the soldier part was there. But until now, it had felt far away, like a shadow on the horizon. Suddenly, it was right in front of her, real and immovable.
"Do you always just... go?" she asked, her voice trembling more than she intended.
"It's not like I get to choose," he answered gently, though there was an edge of frustration in his tone.
Something in her flared at that. "And what about here? About the people who-" She stopped herself before finishing. The people who care about you.
Adrian's jaw tightened. He looked away, out the window, as if the sea might answer what he couldn't. "That's the thing, Elena. Caring makes it harder. For both sides."
The tray in her hands suddenly felt heavy. She set it down before her fingers could betray her trembling. "So what? We're just supposed to pretend this doesn't matter?"
His eyes flicked back to hers then, and she saw conflict there, like two tides pulling in opposite directions. "It doesn't matter. More than I thought it would. That's the problem."
The rest of the day blurred. She moved through her shift mechanically, greeting customers, pouring drinks, smiling when needed. But inside, a storm stirred.
She had always kept her heart guarded, wrapped tightly in paper and pencil sketches no one else saw. And just when she had let someone in, someone who made the world feel less heavy, he was reminding her that he could vanish at any moment.
By the time her shift ended, her chest ached with unspoken words. She packed her things quickly, determined not to linger.
But Adrian was waiting outside.
"Elena," he began, but she brushed past him.
"Not tonight," she said firmly, her steps quick against the cobblestones.
He caught up easily, his longer stride matching hers. "Please, just hear me out."
She stopped, turning to face him under the dim glow of a streetlamp. The night was quiet, the town hushed as though listening.
"You think this is easy for me?" she asked, her voice breaking. "You walk into my life, Adrian, and suddenly I can't imagine my days without you here. And now you're telling me you might be gone tomorrow like it's nothing?! Like I shouldn't let it matter?!"
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration spilling into his expression. "It's not nothing. God, Elena, don't you get it? Every time I let someone matter, I take them with me... into danger... into loss... And I can't-" His voice faltered. "I can't do that to you."
Her heart softened at the crack in his voice, but her anger didn't fade. "You don't get to decide that for me. You don't get to tell me what I should or shouldn't feel!"
For a long moment, they just stood there, staring at each other. Two hearts colliding, too afraid to admit they were already falling for each other.
Finally, Adrian exhaled, his shoulders sinking. "I'm scared, Elena."
The admission was raw, stripped of all armor.
She swallowed hard, tears stinging her eyes. "So am I."
They didn't part as friends that night, nor as lovers. They parted as something in between two people standing on opposite sides of the same storm, uncertain if they would survive it together.
Elena walked home with her heavy chest, her sketchbook clutched too tightly in her hands. Later, alone in her room, she opened to a blank page. She wanted to draw him, his hands, his eyes, the way he looked under the streetlamp when his walls finally cracked.
But all she could draw was a shadow standing at the edge of the pier, staring out at the sea.
And somewhere far above, the stars watched silently, as if they already knew that this conflict was only the first of many.