chapter 4 (the quiet shift)

The rain hadn’t stopped in three days.

It came in waves gentle drizzles in the morning, soft sheets of water by evening.

Outside the bar’s windows, streetlights shimmered through puddles, casting gold ripples across the wet pavement.

Inside, the bar smelled faintly of coffee, cinnamon, and rain-soaked air.

Warm light spilled from the hanging lamps, cutting through the grey of the night.

Ezekiel liked it this way quiet, simple, predictable.

Or at least, he used to.

Now, every evening had become predictable for a different reason.

Because every evening, Ryan walked through that same door.

⸻

It started small the bell above the door chiming around seven, the sound of wet shoes on the floor, the familiar low hum of Ryan’s voice greeting Mira first.

And then, like always, he’d slide onto the stool at the counter, right across from Ezekiel.

Ezekiel had stopped pretending to be surprised.

He’d just sigh, glance up briefly, and mutter something sarcastic.

Ezekiel: “You again.”

Ryan: grinning “You sound thrilled.”

Ezekiel: “I’m considering banning you.”

Ryan: “You wouldn’t survive a day without me.”

Ezekiel: “I’d call that peace.”

Ryan chuckled, leaning his chin in his hand as Ezekiel tried not to smile.

It was their usual dance teasing, snarky, familiar.

But underneath it, there was something else. Something quieter.

The air between them had begun to change.

⸻

That night, the bar wasn’t too busy.

Just a few regulars scattered around, the occasional laugh, the soft clinking of glass.

Mira was busy arranging pastries in the display case, humming a love song under her breath.

Ryan sat across from Ezekiel, idly spinning his coffee cup.

Ryan: “You ever notice you never smile unless you’re scolding me?”

Ezekiel: “That’s because you make scolding easy.”

Ryan: “Maybe I’m just trying to make you smile.”

Ezekiel: dryly “By being a nuisance?”

Ryan: “If it works, it works.”

Ezekiel rolled his eyes but felt the corner of his mouth twitch.

Ryan caught it, of course he always did.

Ryan: softly “There. That’s the one.”

Ezekiel: blinking “What?”

Ryan: “Your real smile. The one that only lasts half a second before you hide it.”

Ezekiel froze, caught off guard by the tone of Ryan’s voice.

It wasn’t teasing. It was almost… tender.

He turned away quickly, pretending to clean a mug.

Ezekiel: “You pay way too much attention.”

Ryan: “Can you blame me?”

Ezekiel: mutters “Yes.”

Ryan laughed again but quieter this time.

Something in the sound made Ezekiel’s chest tighten in a way he didn’t understand.

⸻

Mira wandered over, towel slung over her shoulder.

Mira: “You two are at it again, huh?”

Ryan: “He started it.”

Ezekiel: “I did not.”

Mira smirked. “Sure. Because you never ever rise to his bait.”

Ezekiel glared. “Mira—”

Mira raised her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you lovebirds alone.”

Ezekiel nearly dropped the glass he was polishing.

Ezekiel: “We are not—”

But Mira was already walking away, laughing.

Ryan: grinning “She’s got good instincts.”

Ezekiel: “She’s got terrible instincts.”

Ryan: “So… no lovebirds, huh?”

Ezekiel: “Absolutely not.”

Ryan: “Not even a little?”

Ezekiel glared again, cheeks warming.

Ryan just smiled soft, not smug and took another sip of his drink.

It shouldn’t have made Ezekiel’s heart beat faster.

It really shouldn’t have.

⸻

Hours passed. The bar emptied slowly, until only the faint hum of the refrigerator and the patter of rain remained.

Mira had gone home early, leaving Ezekiel and Ryan alone.

Ryan stayed seated, idly doodling circles on his napkin with a pen he’d borrowed.

Ezekiel wiped down the counter nearby, pretending not to notice him lingering.

Ezekiel: “You don’t have to wait here, you know. I’m closing soon.”

Ryan: “I know.”

Ezekiel: “Then why are you still here?”

Ryan: “Because it’s warm. And quiet. And—”

He paused, glancing up.

“—you’re here.”

Ezekiel’s hands stilled.

He stared at the towel in his grip, then at Ryan, who was now watching him with an easy, open smile.

Ezekiel: “You say things like that too easily.”

Ryan: “It’s not easy. Just honest.”

Ezekiel: muttering “You and your honesty…”

Ryan: “Scary, huh?”

Ezekiel: “Annoying.”

Ryan chuckled, resting his chin in his hand again. “Same thing, to you.”

Ezekiel didn’t respond. He focused on the counter, scrubbing the same spot over and over until Ryan stood up.

Ryan: “Alright, I’ll go before you start mopping me out the door.”

Ezekiel: “That was the plan.”

Ryan: “Goodnight, Zeke.”

Ezekiel: “Don’t call me that.”

Ryan: “Goodnight, Ezekiel.”

Ezekiel turned to hide the faint smile that crept onto his lips.

By the time he looked back, Ryan was already halfway to the door.

The bell chimed softly as he left.

And when the sound faded, the room felt a little too empty again.

⸻

Later that night, Ezekiel sat on his bed, hair still damp from his shower.

The rain outside had softened to a drizzle.

He stared at the ceiling, listening to it tap against the window.

He told himself he was just tired.

That’s why his mind kept wandering back to Ryan’s grin.

His voice.

The way he said his name like it meant something.

Ezekiel turned onto his side, pulling the blanket over his head.

Ezekiel (thinking): “It’s not like that.

He’s just a customer. A friend. A very annoying friend.”

He closed his eyes.

But then came the memory of Ryan’s laugh — low and genuine and the warmth that came with it.

Ezekiel groaned softly, burying his face in the pillow.

Ezekiel: “I’m losing my mind.”

He tried to fall asleep, but all he could see was that stupid smile.

And maybe, just maybe, something in his chest fluttered tiny, fragile, and new.

⸻

The next evening, Ryan was there again and just as Ezekiel knew he would be.

Same seat. Same grin.

But this time, Ezekiel noticed something different in his eyes.

Something quiet, almost searching.

Ryan: “You look tired.”

Ezekiel: “I could say the same about you.”

Ryan: “Me? Nah. I’m full of energy.”

Ezekiel: “Because you don’t work.”

Ryan: “Hey, flirting is hard work.”

Ezekiel: “That wasn’t flirting.”

Ryan: “Sure felt like it.”

Ezekiel gave him a long, unimpressed look.

Ryan smiled back, unwavering.

And somehow, despite himself, Ezekiel almost smiled too.

Almost.

⸻

The night went on like that small talk, quiet laughter, comfortable pauses.

Mira served a few customers, threw Ryan a knowing look once or twice, then left with a cheerful

Mira “Don’t stay too late, you two!”

When the door closed behind her, the bar fell into a hush.

Only Ryan and Ezekiel remained.

Ryan sipped the last of his drink, tracing his finger along the rim of the cup.

Ryan: “You ever think about how strange this is?”

Ezekiel: “How strange what is?”

Ryan: “That I come here every day just to talk to a guy who barely tolerates me.”

Ezekiel: “You could stop coming.”

Ryan: “I could.”

He smiled faintly. “But I won’t.”

Ezekiel felt something twist inside his chest.

Something he didn’t know how to name.

Ezekiel: “You really don’t make sense.”

Ryan: “Neither do you.”

Ezekiel: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ryan: “You keep pretending you don’t care.”

Ezekiel: “Because I don’t.”

Ryan: softly “Then why do you always look disappointed when I leave?”

Ezekiel froze.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure what to say.

Ryan didn’t wait for an answer he just stood, slipped on his jacket, and gave him that same warm grin.

Ryan: “See you tomorrow, bartender.”

Ezekiel didn’t reply.

He just watched him go, heart beating too fast for comfort.

⸻

Later, alone in the darkened bar, Ezekiel wiped the counter one last time.

The seat where Ryan had sat was empty again, the faint outline of his cup still there.

He touched the spot with his fingertips, then shook his head quickly.

Ezekiel (thinking): “Idiot. Both of us.”

But the smile that tugged at his lips said something else.

Something quieter, truer, and far more dangerous.

And as the rain picked up again outside, Ezekiel whispered softly to no one:

Ezekiel: “Maybe just a little.

Maybe… eight percent.”

The lights flickered once, dimming to a soft amber glow.

And for the first time in a long while, Ezekiel didn’t feel quite so alone.

⸻

[End of Chapter 4]

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