Espresso in The Rain

Noah should have known that seeing Elias twice in one day was a bad idea.

Because now, he couldn't stop thinking about him.

The warmth in his voice. The way he had looked at him—not just teasing, not just smug, but serious. Like he actually cared.

Noah wasn't used to that.

And he definitely wasn't ready for it.

That night, he tossed and turned in bed, staring at his ceiling, willing himself to forget the way Elias had leaned over the counter, the way his fingers had brushed Noah's when he handed him the coffee, the way his voice had softened when he told him, I'm here.

This is getting ridiculous.

By morning, Noah had made a decision. He needed space. Distance.

So instead of going to The Roasted Heaven, he went to a different café near campus—a chain café, soulless and commercial. The coffee was bland, the atmosphere stiff, but at least it didn't have Elias standing behind the counter, smirking at him like he knew all of Noah's secrets.

Unfortunately, fate—or Santa—had other plans.

Because just as Noah took a sip of his overpriced, tasteless coffee, a voice drawled from behind him.

"I knew something was up."

Noah sighed, closing his eyes briefly before turning around.

Santa plopped down in the seat across from him, looking entirely too smug for someone who had just ambushed him before class. "You never go anywhere but The Roasted Heaven. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Noah muttered, sipping his coffee.

Santa wrinkled his nose. "Ew. What is that?"

"Coffee."

"That's a crime," Santa corrected, eyeing the cup like it had personally offended him. "And a pathetic excuse to avoid answering my question."

Noah scowled. "I'm not avoiding anything."

Santa leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "You're avoiding him."

Noah stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Santa smirked. "Oh, please. Don't insult me. You've been acting weird since that night at the bar. And now you're drinking this garbage instead of going to your favorite café?"

Noah looked away, jaw tightening. "It's not a big deal."

Santa's smirk softened slightly. "You like him, don't you?"

Noah exhaled sharply. "I don't."

Santa tilted his head. "Liar."

Noah rubbed his temples. "Even if I did—which I don't—it wouldn't matter."

Santa frowned. "Why not?"

"Because." Noah hesitated, gripping his cup a little tighter. "Because it's complicated. Because I have enough on my plate. Because I don't have time for… that."

Santa's gaze softened. "Noah…"

Noah shook his head. "I can't afford to get distracted, okay? I have my mom breathing down my neck about my grades. About my future. And Elias is just…" He trailed off, swallowing.

Santa raised an eyebrow. "Elias is just what?"

Noah hesitated. A distraction? A mistake waiting to happen?

Or worse—someone who made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he deserved something more than just expectations and obligations.

Noah exhaled, looking away. "It doesn't matter."

Santa studied him for a moment before sighing. "Okay."

Noah blinked. "Okay?"

Santa shrugged. "If you want to run away from it, that's your choice."

Noah bristled. "I'm not running away."

Santa just hummed, unconvinced. "Whatever you say, Noah."

Noah scowled. "I hate you."

Santa grinned. "No, you don't."

Noah groaned, shoving the rest of his terrible coffee away. "I have class."

Santa chuckled, standing up. "Of course. Wouldn't want you to get distracted."

Noah glared at him before grabbing his bag and leaving.

But even as he walked toward campus, his mind wasn't on circuits or equations.

It was on dark eyes and warm hands.

And a voice that kept saying, I'm here.