Chapter 19: Closer
Sunday shifts at the Fast Feast Diner always moved to a slower rhythm. Julian Hayes had brought along several assignments, knowing the weekend crowds hit hardest during breakfast and dinner rushes. The long stretches of quiet time in between—after the ingredients were prepped—were perfect for knocking everything out.
Truth was, he wasn't some dedicated student. He just wanted to finish his homework here so he could actually unwind once he got home without anything looming over him.
And having Margaret right beside him made the time pass easier.
They used the medium-sized table in the dining area for everything from stacking supplies to eating their meals. By ten in the morning, after completing all the washing and chopping the boss had assigned, Julian spread out his books and started tackling the difficult calculus problems, chewing absently on the end of his pen.
Soft late-autumn sunlight spilled into the diner, warm and golden, spreading across the tabletop and casting the faint shadow of his pen.
The street outside stayed quiet, with only a few pedestrians passing by. Golden light bathed the pavement beneath a crisp, cloudless blue sky. The sweet fragrance of roses from the flower shop next door drifted in gently on the breeze.
Margaret wore her light blue hoodie, the collar riding high enough to cover most of her pale neck. Her long, silky black hair spilled smoothly over her shoulders like dark satin.
She propped her cheek on her hand, gazing at the tranquil street, but her eyes kept drifting back to Julian. He was fully absorbed in his work, pencil scratching steadily across the page, completely unguarded in his concentration.
This kind of calm, intimate moment felt dangerously good.
Julian suddenly looked up and motioned for her to come over. He pointed to one of the tougher problems on the page.
The blank space dominated most of the sheet, with only a few lines of initial work. The scratch paper beside it was nearly filled. Classic time-consuming nightmare.
"Got any ideas?" he asked as she slid onto the stool beside him.
"Start with the derivative, then…" Margaret paused, thinking. "Our teacher went over something similar recently. Give me a second…"
Their math performance was nearly identical—both consistently near the top of the class—and they often traded help on problems.
She took the notebook and smoothly plucked the pen from his fingers. Their skin brushed in the process. Her fingers felt incredibly soft, cool, and smooth against his. The brief contact sent an unexpected spark through him.
Margaret either didn't notice or didn't care. She began working through the calculations. Julian tried to focus on the problem, but his gaze kept sliding over to her face.
She was truly beautiful.
While thinking, she had the habit of resting the end of the pen against her lips. The innocent gesture instantly brought the idea of an indirect kiss to mind, which felt stupid, yet the strange flutter in his chest refused to settle.
He almost said something but held back. It would only interrupt her and make things awkward between them.
Then, lost in thought, Margaret absentmindedly slipped the tip of the pen between her lips. She realized it a second later and quickly pulled it out, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she met his eyes. "Sorry… I didn't mean to do that…"
A rush of heat flooded his chest, throwing his heartbeat into chaos. He forced himself to sound casual. "It's… it's fine. Any progress on the problem?"
"Yeah, almost there. I'll write out the full steps for you."
She lowered her head again and began jotting down the solution in her neat, elegant handwriting. A soft, captivating smile curved her lips—whether from cracking the problem or noticing his flustered state, he couldn't tell.
When she finished, she slid the notebook closer, their shoulders nearly touching. A faint, clean scent lingered around her.
"First you take the derivative of the original function, then identify the intervals where the derivative is greater than zero…"
She explained everything thoroughly, step by step. He could have followed with fewer details, but he listened anyway.
Her handwriting was precise and graceful. After she finished, she glanced outside. A customer had walked up.
"You review this. I'll take care of them."
"I can help—"
"No need. It's just one person. You focus on checking the work."
Margaret stood and handled the order with smooth efficiency—taking the request, preparing the meal, and handing over the neatly bagged container. When she returned, Julian had already solved the problem.
With the math homework finally done, he packed everything away. The sunlight outside had grown stronger, its warmth soaking into his skin and chasing away the lingering autumn chill.
It was nearly noon. He cleared the table and pulled out two plates from the cupboard.
The lunch rush would start soon, so they needed to eat a bit early. The boss allowed them to have their meals at the diner on weekends, though they had to clean up after themselves.
They each ladled some thick gravy with cabbage and vegetable slices onto their plates. Neither of them took any meat, even though the boss had repeatedly said they could add a few pieces. They didn't want to push their luck.
They finished their simple lunch quickly. The next hour and a half turned into the usual busy stretch of continuous customers. They worked together seamlessly, efficiently serving the long line until it finally dwindled.
When things slowed down again, Julian slumped forward onto the table, drained.
"Tired?" Margaret asked, leaning against the wall as she watched him sprawl out.
"Not too bad. Just sleepy," he replied, yawning.
"We still have to prep the ingredients for dinner—peel and shred the potatoes, boil the eggs, and…"
"Okay, okay. I know there's still a lot left." He reluctantly pushed himself upright.
"It's not urgent yet. You can nap for a while. I'll wake you when we need to start."
"Really? Feels kind of wrong to keep slacking off like this." Even as he said it, he was already lowering his head back onto his arms.
"Just finish what the boss assigned. Don't overthink it. I'll wake you if he shows up."
"Alright… I'm going to sleep then…"
Julian closed his eyes, pillowed on his folded arms, and quickly drifted into a deep, heavy sleep.
The warm sunlight bathed the quiet street. Margaret stood watching the occasional car pass by, her hand slowly tightening against the white tiled counter.
More than ten minutes later, she called his name softly. "Julian?"
No response. She stepped closer. "Julian?"
He remained fast asleep, his features relaxed and strikingly handsome in repose. His breathing came slow and even, his skin smooth and pale.
Margaret stared down at him in silence for a long moment. Her gaze traced every vulnerable line of his face as something dark and possessive stirred deep inside her. The sight of him like this—so completely defenseless—tempted her, pulling at every restrained impulse.
A restless heat built low in her body. Her heart pounded wildly. She leaned down slowly, bringing her face close to his. Her long hair fell like a curtain beside them. Her soft lips brushed lightly against his cheek in the barest touch.
The contact sent a violent surge of pleasure through her, nearly shattering her self-control. She pulled back immediately, biting down hard on her lip to steady herself.
Not yet. She had to wait just a little longer…
Soon she wouldn't have to steal these moments like some pathetic thief.
Julian… you're mine.