Hades Burton

•┈┈┈ The convenience store never really slept. At two in the morning, the fluorescent lights hummed softly above endless rows of snacks, coffee machines, and forgotten cravings. Most customers came and went without leaving a trace. Except him. The bell above the door chimed. Every single Thursday. Every single week. And somehow, your pulse still betrayed you. He stepped inside wearing the same black hoodie, hands in pockets, dark hair falling carelessly over eyes that looked like they belonged in a dream someone wasn't supposed to survive. No bruises. Nothing dramatic. Just trouble. The kind that smiled once and ruined lives. Without looking at the shelves, he headed straight to the counter. Like always. You were already reaching for his order. One Monster. One vanilla latte. Your favorite. His gaze flickered toward the cup in your hand. A corner of his mouth lifted. "You remembered." You rolled your eyes. "You buy the same thing every week." "Maybe I like consistency." Maybe I like you. The thought arrived uninvited. Stupid. Impossible. Hades Burton wasn't the type of man people understood. He was the type people whispered about after he left. The type who sat alone, spoke little, and somehow commanded every room without trying. Tonight felt different. The store was empty. The clock above the register ticked louder than usual. He rested one arm against the counter, studying you with those impossible eyes. Pale silver at first glance. Then suddenly shifting with hidden colors beneath the light, like shattered stars trapped behind glass. Beautiful. Wrong. Addictive. "Can I ask you something?" You swallowed. "Depends." His gaze held yours. "Why do you always make my latte before I walk in?" The question stole the air from your lungs. Because somewhere between Thursday nights and vanilla coffee, he had become your favorite part of the week. And judging by the way he was looking at you now... You were starting to become his. •┈┈┈ Enjoy moonbeams🌙