Hannah's POV:
Laughter echoes through the Saloon like warm honey dripping off old wood. Glasses clink, voices rise in harmony, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Stardew feels... alive. The backroom is buzzing—Alex, Penny, Sam, Haley, Abigail, all huddled together in conversation, the kind that flows easily between people who belong. Even Haley and Abigail are being civil, which is either a miracle or a warning sign.
I'm planted at the bar like an afterthought, swirling the straw in my untouched glass. One glass of wine and already I feel the edges of myself fraying. My cheeks are warm, but it's not the alcohol—it's him. It's Alex.
He's laughing, the easy kind of laugh that comes naturally to someone like him. The way he holds himself, relaxed but magnetic, like gravity leans toward him. He doesn't try to charm people—he just does. And maybe that's what guts me the most.
I don't belong in a room like this. Not the way he does.
Haley tosses her head back with a musical, effortless laugh, one hand lightly brushing his bicep. He doesn't flinch. Of course he doesn't. Why would he? They look like they belong on a billboard—sunshine and swagger.
I look down at my wine, the stem of the glass cold in my fingers. I remember him on my porch, casserole in hand. The hallway incident—him in nothing but a towel and a crooked grin. The way his cologne clung to the air. The faint dimple in his cheek when he smiles for real. I remember it all like a confession I didn't mean to make.
What the hell am I doing?
I push the wine away and slip out the side door. The air hits me like a baptism—cool, crisp, too real. The night is quiet except for the gentle hum of insects and music leaking through the wall.
"Leaving already?" a voice asks, low and familiar.
I jump slightly, heart catching in my throat, and turn to see Sebastian leaning against the brick wall, cigarette glowing between his fingers. He startles me in the way only someone who's always in their head can—silent, sudden, and standing way too close to something I wasn't ready to feel.
I laugh, more from nerves than amusement. "Just needed some air."
"Overwhelmed?" he asks, voice softer than usual. There's something knowing in it—something that coils around my spine like a secret.
"A little." I shrug, hugging my arms. "I'm not used to... this. All of this. It's a lot."
Sebastian watches me, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Thinking about him?"
My stomach drops.
"Who?" I ask, my voice feigning innocence that neither of us believe.
He raises a single eyebrow, unimpressed. "Alex. Who else?"
God. Am I that obvious?
"No," I say too quickly, too rehearsed. "Alex is just my friend. You know that. We both know what kind of guy he is."
"Do we?" Sebastian takes a slow drag, then flicks the ash onto the cobblestone. "I think you think a lot more about him than you let on, and so does he."
His gaze cuts straight through me, and suddenly, I can't move. His eyes are dark—too dark for how soft his voice sounds—and they don't flinch when they meet mine. The cigarette dies beneath his boot, and for a second, neither of us say anything. The air between us crackles, thick with words unsaid. I can hear my own heartbeat, my stomach fills with butterflies.
And then the Saloon door swings open.
"Hannah, you okay?" Alex.
His voice isn't loud, but it's enough to snap the moment in half. I jolt back from Sebastian—too fast, too guilty—and suddenly I feel cold. I didn't realize how close I was to him, were we about to kiss? Certainly not, he is my friend.
Alex's eyes narrow ever so slightly as he takes in the scene. Me. Sebastian. Too close. Too still.
"Yeah," I say, awkwardly twisting the ring on my index finger. "just talking to Sebastian."
"Right," Alex says, lips pulling into a flat, unreadable line. He looks at me like he's trying to figure something out, and I hate that he might already know. Know what Sebastian sees. Know what I won't admit.
Sebastian doesn't speak. But I can feel the tension radiating off him—like he's holding back something sharp and dangerous. Words maybe. Feelings probably. He shoves his hands in his pockets, eyes cast somewhere far off.
"Well... I should get going," Alex says, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks for the party."
"I should go too," Sebastian mutters, brushing past me with one last look that leaves a weight behind.
And then they're both gone.
"Goodnight," I whisper to no one. I lean against the wall, letting the cool brick steady me. What just happened?
"Wow. That was pathetic."
Haley. Of course. She's standing nearby, arms crossed, a sneer of a smile on her lips. She must've followed Alex out.
I let out a laugh, not because she's wrong—because she's exactly right.
Without another word, she struts off into the night like she owns it. Maybe she does.
A beat of silence.
"Girl, What are you going to do?"
I jump again. Abigail. She appears beside me like a ghost, clutching a beer and a smirk.
"Where did you even come from?" I ask, heart still hammering.
"I've been out here the whole time." She raises her brows, then takes a long sip.
"You need to put a bell around your neck." I say back.
"You gonna pretend you don't know what I'm talking about?"
I sigh, head tilting back to look at the stars. "They're both my friends."
"Sure," she says. "And I'm the Queen of Zuzu City."
I groan.
She nudges me gently. "You know, the last time Sebastian looked at anything the way he looks at you, he was five and holding a frog he named Meatball."
"Great. Now I'm a frog."
"Don't underestimate his love of frogs." She smiles, more genuine this time. "I used to have a huge crush on Seb."
I glance at her, surprised. She just nods.
"We're too alike. And... he's my best friend. I wouldn't screw that up for anything."
There's something in her tone that makes my chest ache. Like she knows how messy this could all get. Like she's already watched it happen before.
I stare up at the sky, heart spinning in three different directions.
One glass of wine, two boys, and too many feelings.77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ92EmIYp4MR
And not a damn clue what to do with any of it
Sebastian POV:
Sebastian's POV:
The night air is cooler than usual. Crisp. Quiet, aside from the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses inside the Saloon. I light a cigarette, partly out of habit, mostly to keep my hands busy. The flicker of the flame, the first drag—it's grounding.
I need grounding.
She steps outside a second later—Hannah. She doesn't notice me at first. She's hugging her arms, breathing like someone trying to remember how. She's beautiful when she's overwhelmed. Not that I'd say that out loud.
"Leaving already?" I ask, casual. Too casual. She jumps.
God, she's always so present in her silence. Like she drags something out of you just by existing near you.
She smiles nervously. "Just needed some air."
"Overwhelmed?" I already know the answer. I can see it in the way her fingers twitch, the way she avoids looking directly at me.
She nods. "Yeah. I'm not used to all this. It's... a lot."
I want to say same, but I don't. I just watch her. The way the porch light hits her hair, the way she leans against the wall like she needs it to hold her up.
"You thinking about him?" I ask before I can stop myself. My voice is low. I hate how sharp it comes out.
She stiffens. "Who?"
I scoff. "Alex. Come on, Hannah."
She tries to laugh it off, but it's brittle, like a window with a hairline crack waiting to shatter. "He's just a friend. You know what kind of guy he is."
I take another drag, slow and deliberate. "I think you think he's more than that."
She doesn't deny it this time. Doesn't say anything at all.
"And I think he thinks more of you than he lets on."
The cigarette burns between my fingers. I put it out with my heel, eyes never leaving hers. There's a beat—no, a moment—where she leans in. Not a lot, just enough for the world to tilt.
I wonder, briefly, what would've happened if that door didn't open.
But it does.
"Hannah, you okay?"77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9uWW3Ahc7E
Alex. Of course.
She jumps back like she's been caught doing something wrong. Like being close to me was a mistake. That stings more than I want it to.
She says something about just talking. Alex doesn't buy it. I can tell from the way he's looking at her—at us. That protective, unreadable thing in his eyes, the one he doesn't show unless he's losing his grip on something.
The silence stretches. I can feel my jaw tense. My hands go straight to my pockets so I don't say something I'll regret.
"I should get going," Alex says, and his smile is so forced it physically hurts to watch.
I should leave too. So I say it. "I should go."
I don't look back at her. If I do, I'll stay. And staying might ruin everything.
I turn down the alleyway, lighting another cigarette the second I'm out of sight. My hands are shaking. That's new.
Behind me, I hear Haley's voice cut through the air like a blade—sharp and mocking. I hear Abigail too. Laughter. Words exchanged I can't make out.
I don't turn around.
Because what I do know is that Hannah is standing out there under that stupid flickering streetlight, caught between two people who don't know how to love gently. Caught in whatever the hell this triangle is, whatever the hell I let myself feel when I shouldn't.
And maybe she doesn't know what to do with it yet.
But I do.
I'm already too far gone.
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