The Project || 18+ [ON HOLD]

9.

Pushing open the door to Main Street Eats, I'm immediately enveloped in the warm, comforting aroma of home cooking. It's been a long, exhausting day, and all I want is to drown my fatigue in some good, hearty food. The diner, with its red-checkered tablecloths and retro decor, feels like stepping into a simpler time. It's a place where I can let my guard down.

As I slip onto a stool at the counter, Sue, greets me with a bright smile. "The usual, Elora?"

Maybe I've been eating here a little too often. Regardless, I nod, grateful. "Thanks, Sue. And maybe a slice of that apple pie too."

Settling in, I scan the diner, noting the usual mix of locals and a few faces I don't recognize. The chatter and laughter create a background hum, a soothing soundtrack to my solitary dinner. I'm lost in thought when the door opens again, and Killian walks in, his presence shifting the energy in the room.

He pauses, scanning the crowded diner, his gaze landing on me almost as an afterthought. There's a flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly masked by his customary nonchalance. With a shrug, he makes his way to the only available space – the stool next to mine.

He stops to make small talk with a few people before making his way to my side.

"Small world," he comments, a hint of amusement in his voice as he sits down.

"Seems like it," I reply, trying to keep my tone neutral.

He orders, and as we wait for our food, the initial awkwardness gradually dissipates. Maybe it's the fatigue, or perhaps it's just the need for human connection, but we find ourselves drifting into a conversation that's more casual and less charged than our usual interactions.

"So, you're a fan of apple pie?" Killian asks, nodding towards my order.

"It's comfort food," I admit. "Reminds me of my grandma. She used to make the best pies."

He smiles at that, a genuine smile that softens his features. "My mom's best friend makes a mean peach cobbler."

The conversation shifts naturally, touching on light topics – our food preferences, amusing stories about the town, the quirky habits of some of the regulars. It's strangely easy, talking like this, without the usual barbs and challenges.

Our food arrives, and we eat in companionable silence for a while. Then, a song comes on the jukebox, a slow, melancholy tune that seems to tug at something within Killian. He pauses, fork midway to his mouth, and I can see a faraway look in his eyes.

"My dad used to play this song," he says, almost to himself. "Back when things were... simpler."

I look at him, seeing a vulnerability that pulls at something inside me.

"We all have our 'back when' stories, don't we?" I say softly, my own memories surfacing.

Killian nods, his gaze lingering on the jukebox for a moment longer before turning back to me. The song fades into the background as he leans forward slightly, propping his elbow on the counter.