desire

The café's outdoor seating offered a perfect view of the city's gleaming towers, their surfaces catching the afternoon sun like polished mirrors. Lenard shifted in his chair, trying to focus on Sarah's animated description of her work in xenobotany. She was objectively beautiful, with warm brown eyes and an infectious laugh, exactly the kind of person he should be interested in. Yet his mind kept drifting to silver hair and the scent of hydrangeas.

"So then the specimen actually started singing!" Sarah's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Can you believe it? A melodic defense mechanism!"

"That's fascinating," Lenard managed, forcing himself to smile. He took another sip of his coffee, hoping the caffeine might help him stay present in the moment. The date had been Jake's idea – "You need to get out more, man. Meet someone normal for once."

Normal. Right. Because nothing about the way his hand still tingled when he thought about Eden was normal.

"Are you okay?" Sarah tilted her head, concern creasing her brow. "You seem a little distracted."

"Sorry, I just—" Lenard's response died in his throat as a familiar figure caught his eye. There, pretending to examine the café's menu board, stood Eden Hayes. She wore civilian clothes – fitted jeans and a loose cream sweater that made her look softer somehow, more approachable. More dangerous.

His heart did a complicated gymnastic routine in his chest. She shouldn't be here. She never left the facility during work hours. Unless...

Eden's gaze met his for a fraction of a second before she looked away, her cheeks flushing. She pulled out her phone, tapped it a few times, and then Lenard's device buzzed in his pocket.

"I should check this," he apologized to Sarah. "It might be work."

The message was terse: "Emergency in Section 7. Need your expertise immediately."

Sarah's smile dimmed slightly. "Everything alright?"

"I'm so sorry, but there's an urgent situation at work." Lenard stood, already reaching for his wallet to cover their drinks. "I really need to—"

"Go," Sarah finished for him, waving off his attempt to pay. "I get it. Maybe we can reschedule?"

"Yeah, maybe," he replied, knowing they wouldn't. She deserved better than half-hearted maybes.

Eden was already walking away from the café, her stride purposeful. Lenard caught up to her half a block later, falling into step beside her.

"What's the emergency?" he asked, trying to ignore how right it felt to walk beside her.

Eden's steps faltered slightly. "We should discuss it somewhere private."

She led him down a quiet side street, then suddenly turned into a small alcove between buildings. Before Lenard could process what was happening, she had pushed him against the wall and pressed her lips to his.

The world tilted on its axis. Every point of contact between them sparked with electricity, and fragments of memory exploded behind his closed eyes – the taste of rain, whispered words in darkness, the weight of secrets shared and forgotten. His hands found her waist instinctively, pulling her closer as if they'd done this a thousand times before.

When Eden finally pulled back, her eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and something else – possession, perhaps. Or recognition.

"There's no emergency in Section 7, is there?" Lenard asked softly, still holding her.

Eden's laugh was shaky. "No. I just... I couldn't stand watching you with her. I don't know why, but I couldn't." She pressed her forehead against his chest. "I know it's against every regulation we have. I know it doesn't make sense. But seeing you there with someone else made me feel like I was losing something I can't even remember having."

Lenard ran his fingers through her silver hair, marveling at how familiar the gesture felt. "We're going to get in so much trouble for this."

"Probably," Eden agreed, looking up at him with a small smile. "But I have a feeling we've been in trouble before."

Above them, the city's atmospheric processors hummed their constant song, and somewhere deep below, ancient machines whirred in their endless dance. But for now, in this quiet moment stolen between buildings, none of that seemed to matter quite as much as the way Eden's hand fit perfectly in his, like a key finding its lock after years of searching.