•Love Beyond Death• (TSS Ghost Au Fic)

Chapter 1

Of all the places Logan could work on his endless piles of paperwork, the coffee house was, by far, his favorite.Perhaps it was the scent of coffee beans laced with vanilla or the quiet hum of patrons chatting in the booths. Maybe it was the simplistic aesthetic that made him feel at ease.

But that would mean Logan would have to admit that he felt things.

Which he doesn’t.

Logan Adams doesn’t feel anything.

Seated at his usual corner booth, Logan focused intently on grading papers. His brow was knit in concentration while his red fountain pen marked his students' mistakes. The occasional sip of coffee momentarily distracted him until a gentle breeze stirred his papers.

As he glanced up, he noticed a man entering the coffee shop. From the looks of it, he seemed to be a farmer with his slightly disheveled flannel shirt and sweat-drenched, dirty hair as he carried a large crate to the front counter and began chatting with the shop owner. Logan's gaze lingered on the stranger for a moment before returning to his papers, uninterested in further observation.

Yet, despite Logan's apparent disinterest, the farmer approached his table and greeted him with a simple. "Hey there."

Logan studied the farmer, unexpectedly acknowledging the charm of the farmer’s unkempt appearance. The dirt smeared on his face made Logan’s hands twitch with an overwhelming desire to wipe it away, his curly hair was barely contained by a headband, and there was an authentic scent of nature surrounding him. Logan couldn't understand why someone like him would approach him. His own appearance - a dark blue suit and slicked-back dark brown hair - couldn’t possibly be appealing to someone like him.

Logan ignored the greeting and returned to his papers, silently hoping the man would take the hint and leave him alone. However, the farmer, confused by the lack of response, cocked his head to the side. “I’m not a ghost, am I? No ‘hello’? Nothing?”

“Hello,” Logan replied dryly, fighting the childish urge to lower his head to the table to express his annoyance at being bothered.

“Hello to you too, handsome.”

Logan lifted his head, a hint of surprise flickering across his face. "Excuse you?"

“I said ‘hello’...”

The farmer ran his fingers through his reddish-brown hair, and despite himself, Logan’s mouth tugged into an amused smile of his own. But rather than show his interest in this interaction, it quickly turned into a scowl. “Handsome. You called me handsome.”

“Oh, did I? Whoops. Slip of the tongue, I suppose.”

Logan leaned back, adjusting his glasses. In a situation like this, the reasonable course of action would be to inform the stranger that he is married, uninterested, and wished to be left alone. However, he found himself unable to say anything.

Maybe he found the encounter a welcome distraction, or perhaps it was the most interesting thing to happen in his mundane life in a long time. Regardless, he regarded the farmer with a curious tilt of his head.

Then, another person entered the coffee shop, causing a gust of wind to sweep Logan's papers off the table. As the farmer hurriedly gathered them, Logan tried to reorganize them into their respective stacks with visible frustration. Then, when the farmer extended a hand to offer back some of the papers, Logan snatched them away.

“Do you need help reorganizing?”

"It's alright. These papers are a mess anyway," Logan muttered.

After adjusting his flannel - which did little to improve his disheveled appearance - he sat in the booth opposite Logan. The teacher shot him a puzzled look, clearly uncomfortable with the unsolicited company.

Shrugging with a casual grin, the farmer said, “Oh, well, if you insist I sit with you, I have a few minutes to spare.”

“I don’t want company,” Logan replied, and the stranger's grin only widened.

“I’m sure you don’t, Mr.-”

The farmer offered a hand for a handshake, which made Logan recoil. His gaze flitted from the dirty hand being offered in his direction to the grin on the farmer’s face. Though the thought of dirtying his hands was far from appealing, he returned the handshake.

“Adams. Logan Adams.”

The farmer's gaze seemed to linger on Logan's face before shifting down to look at the papers under Logan's arm. "A teacher?"

“Yes.”

“What grade?”

“High school.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows, "Of course I enjoy it," he said a little too sharply. "I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t enjoy it."

"Just wondering," the farmer said softly in case he had unknowingly offended Logan. "It's just... well, you seem a bit worn out, that’s all," he added cautiously, nodding toward the dark smudges under Logan's eyes.

After all the time Logan dedicated every morning to applying makeup to prevent observations like that, he was frustrated that it was still pointed out. His jaw tightened as he stared at the farmer, who quickly changed the subject.

“I’m not usually the one making these runs, so I don’t come here often. Is their coffee good?”

“I believe so, yes.”

Logan continued to occupy himself with grading again while the stranger talked to him because, unfortunately, the papers weren’t going to grade themselves.

And talk he did. For a very long time.

"Logan?"

Logan paused, and he looked up. " Yes?"

“Are you listening to me?”

“Sir…” Logan sighed, setting his pen down, "In case it wasn't clear when you first approached me, I am busy. I'm not sure what made you feel inclined to sit with me of all people, but that was your mistake. No, I am not listening to you."

Hoping that would finally be direct enough to make the stranger leave him be, Logan returned to his work, only to see him pick up one of his papers and start reading it.

“Math, huh?” the farmer mused, his finger tracing the red marks on the page. “Was never my strong suit.”

"I can't say I'm surprised,"

"What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm stupid?"

“Given your decision to continue this one-sided exchange despite my clear signals? Yes, I have come to that conclusion," Logan replied, causing a moment of silence between them until the farmer broke it with a laugh.

“Well, that’s not very nice. I wouldn’t have expected something like that from you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But I want to,” said the stranger, finally rising from the booth, “Tell you what, how about I leave you alone today, and I’ll come back to talk to you tomorrow when you're not swamped with paperwork? Sounds good?"

Logan nodded, unintentionally committing himself to be there the next day and not spend it working, which was uncommon for him.

“Alright. I’m Barry, by the way. You didn’t ask my name, but if you’re gonna be my new coffee buddy, I thought you should know.”

Barry gave Logan a quick two-finger salute before he headed back to his truck. Logan gave a confused glance before he shook his head, chastised himself for getting distracted, and refocused on the papers before him.

Yet, the image of Barry's smile persisted in his mind, leaving him oddly unbalanced