Espresso in The Rain

The ride back to The Roasted Heaven was silent.

Noah gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. His mother's words echoed in his head, looping like a broken record.

"I won't let you throw away your future for something temporary."

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to slam on the brakes, turn around, and tell her that Elias wasn't temporary.

But was he?

Noah swallowed hard, staring at the dark road ahead.

The problem wasn't his mother's disapproval—it was the doubt she'd planted in his chest, a tiny crack in something that had felt so certain.

When he pulled up to the coffee shop, the lights inside were still on.

Elias was waiting.

Noah exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair before stepping out of the car.

The moment he pushed the door open, Elias looked up from behind the counter, his black eyes sharp with concern. "You look like hell."

Noah let out a dry laugh. "Feel like it too."

Elias set down the rag he'd been using to wipe the counter and leaned against the wood, arms crossed. "What happened?"

Noah hesitated.

He didn't want to dump all of this on Elias—not when they had been doing so well.

But as he looked at him, standing there in the place that had slowly started to feel like home, he realized he couldn't hold it in.

He stepped forward, dropping onto a stool with a heavy sigh. "My mom knows."

Elias raised an eyebrow. "About us?"

Noah nodded, rubbing his temples. "She basically told me she doesn't care that I'm dating a man—just that I can't afford to be distracted."

Elias scoffed, shaking his head. "Let me guess. She wants you to focus on school, on your future."

Noah glanced up, surprised. "Yeah."

Elias sighed, rolling his shoulders as he moved to the espresso machine. He started making a drink without asking, and Noah watched as his movements stayed smooth, controlled—like he had been expecting this.

"Parents like that," Elias murmured, pressing the shot of espresso. "They think they know what's best. They shape your life before you even have a chance to choose."

Noah frowned. "You sound like you're speaking from experience."

Elias smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Maybe."

Noah didn't push.

Instead, he let the silence settle between them as Elias slid a cup toward him.

"Drink."

Noah picked it up, letting the warmth seep into his fingers. The first sip was smooth, slightly bitter, but comforting.

He sighed. "You always know exactly what I need."

Elias leaned against the counter again, watching him. "Do you?"

Noah blinked. "Do I what?"

"Know what you need."

Noah hesitated.

He had thought he did. He had thought he needed stability, structure—the path his mother had always paved for him.

But now?

He wasn't so sure.

"I don't know," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Elias studied him for a long moment before stepping closer, fingers tilting Noah's chin up so their eyes met.

"Noah," Elias said softly, "are you doubting us?"

Noah's breath caught.

Was he?

He didn't want to be.

But something in him was scared—scared of what this meant, scared of whether or not he could balance both his mother's expectations and this relationship.

"I…" He exhaled shakily. "I don't know how to not doubt things, Elias."

Elias' jaw tightened, but instead of pulling away, he leaned down, lips brushing against Noah's in a kiss that was both tender and possessive.

Noah melted into it.

Elias didn't kiss like he was unsure. He kissed like he knew. Like he had already made his decision, and he wasn't going to let Noah's fears pull them apart.

When he finally pulled away, his black eyes burned into Noah's.

"Then let me teach you."

And just like that, Noah realized something.

Maybe Elias wasn't his distraction.

Maybe Elias was the only thing keeping him grounded.