Tessa

Tessa said her goodbyes with a warm hug for Lucy, a wave for Miles, and a quick whistle for Moose, who immediately abandoned Graham’s feet to trot after her.

Graham was slipping on his jacket by the door when she turned.

Their eyes met — brief, almost hesitant.

“Heading back too?” she asked, keeping her voice light.

Graham grunted something that might have been a yes.

Tessa smiled to herself and pushed the door open, Moose barreling past her onto the sidewalk.
She half-expected Graham to wait behind, to linger and give her space.

But after a moment, she heard his footsteps fall into pace beside her.

They didn’t speak at first.

The street was quiet this time of night, the warm glow of the coffee shop’s sign casting lazy shadows across the sidewalk.
Moose padded happily ahead, occasionally veering off to sniff a tree or investigate a lamppost.

Tessa shoved her hands into her pockets, resisting the urge to babble just to fill the silence.

It wasn’t… uncomfortable exactly.

Just different.

She glanced sideways at Graham.
His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his dark jacket, his head slightly bowed against the cool night air.

Somehow, even walking silently, he still managed to feel solid.
Reliable.
Unmoving.

She liked that more than she probably should.

“You always this chatty?” she teased gently.

Graham’s mouth twitched — the barest flicker of a smirk.

“I don’t waste words,” he said.

Tessa chuckled under her breath. “Clearly.”

Another stretch of quiet.
Moose sneezed dramatically ahead of them.

Tessa bit her lip, then asked, “So… you grew up here?”

Graham nodded once. “Yeah. Born and raised.”

“That’s rare,” Tessa said, nudging a pebble along the sidewalk with her shoe. “Most people I meet are just passing through.”

“I stayed.”

Simple. Final.

Tessa didn’t pry.

She understood that kind of statement.
Sometimes staying said more than leaving ever could.

“I think I like it here,” she said instead.

Another small glance from him — quick, almost involuntary.

“You’ve been here, what, a month?”

“Six weeks,” she said proudly.

“And you haven’t run screaming yet?”

“Not even once,” she said, grinning. “Though Moose almost convinced me when he rolled in a mud puddle last week.”

Graham huffed a laugh — a real one this time — and it sparked a little glow in Tessa’s chest.

Progress.

Maybe he wasn’t made entirely of stone after all.

They reached the steps of their building almost at the same time.
Tessa tugged Moose’s leash gently, and he flopped down dramatically at her feet.

“You’re impossible,” she told the dog, bending to scoop him up.

When she straightened, she caught Graham watching her — not glaring, not scowling — just watching.

It made her breath catch for half a second.

“Night, Graham,” she said softly, giving him a small wave as she adjusted Moose in her arms.

He nodded — still no big smiles, still no soft words — but somehow, it felt like more than enough.

“Night, Tessa.”

---

Graham

He watched her disappear into the stairwell, Moose’s tail thumping happily against her arm.

He told himself it was just neighborly politeness.
That he was only making sure she got inside safely.
That he wasn’t… lingering.

Liar.

Graham stood there a moment longer than necessary, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, heart beating a little faster than usual.

She was a lot.

Loud. Messy. Bright.

Everything he didn’t like.

Everything he didn’t need.

And yet…
As he finally turned and headed up the stairs toward his own apartment, he couldn’t deny it:

For the first time in a long time, something about the night didn’t feel quite so heavy.