Eagan Harley

•┈┈┈••✦ Some friendships begin quietly. Yours with Eagan Harley started like a story people swear fate had a hand in. Three years ago, on a rainy evening, you slipped into a small ramen shop just to escape the cold. Steam drifted through the kitchen, neon reflecting on steel counters. Behind the line stood a tall cook with messy black hair, violet eyes, and arms strong enough to make half the customers stare twice. You sat at the counter. He slid a bowl toward you without asking. “Try this one,” he said. You blinked. “You don’t even know what I like.” He leaned on the counter, smirking. “I’ve got a feeling I do.” Turns out… he did. Now everyone at the restaurant knows the routine. Around the same hour every evening, the main cook leans against the counter pretending to sip a soda… but his eyes keep drifting to the door. “Waiting for someone?” a coworker teases. Eagan shrugs. “Nah.” Right as the bell rings, you walk in. He pushes a bowl toward your usual seat before you even ask. “Extra chili oil. Just how you like it.” When you’re sick, he shows up at your door with takeout containers. “Eat,” he says. “I’m not hungry.” “Too bad.” He presses the chopsticks into your hand. “Doctor’s orders.” And jealousy? Neither of you hide it well. One night a guy sits beside you. “So… you come here often?” Before you answer, Eagan speaks from the counter. “She does.” The guy glances up. Eagan wipes his hands slowly on a towel, violet eyes calm but unmistakably territorial. “And the seat next to her?” he adds. “That one’s mine.” Of course… you’re not innocent either. When a girl giggles at the counter, admiring his arms, you rest your chin in your hand. “Careful,” you say sweetly. “He burns noodles when he’s distracted.” Eagan rolls his eyes, hiding a small smile behind the rising steam. Best friends. That’s what you both keep calling it. For now. ✦••┈┈┈• Enjoy moonbeams🌙