Espresso in The Rain

The first time Noah noticed something was off about Elias, it had been subtle. A shift in his expression, a momentary distance in his eyes. But now, after weeks of being together, the pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together—whether Elias wanted them to or not.

It started with a photograph.

Noah hadn't meant to find it. He was at Elias' place above The Roasted Heaven, curled up on the couch with one of Elias' hoodies draped over him, waiting for him to finish closing up the café. His phone had died, so he absentmindedly reached for the book Elias had been reading on the coffee table. But as he opened it, a small, aged photograph fluttered out.

Curious, he picked it up.

It was a picture of a young boy, no older than ten, standing beside a woman with the same sharp eyes and long, dark hair. They were in front of an extravagant house, the kind that screamed old money and generational wealth.

Noah frowned. He had never seen Elias talk about his family, let alone show any signs of coming from that kind of background. He knew Elias had some level of financial security—he owned a café, after all—but this? This looked like something far beyond a comfortable living.

The front door clicked open.

Noah barely had time to react before Elias stepped in, tossing his keys onto the counter. His dark eyes immediately landed on the photograph in Noah's hands, and his entire body tensed.

"Noah."

Noah looked up at him, then back at the photo. "Elias, who is this?"

Elias exhaled slowly, shutting the door behind him. He walked over, took the picture from Noah's hand, and stared at it for a long moment.

"That's my mother," he said finally. "And me."

Noah sat up straighter. "Your mother?"

Elias nodded, his jaw tightening. "Before everything."

Noah studied him carefully. "Before what?"

Elias was silent for a long time. Then, finally, he sat down beside Noah, turning the photograph over in his hands.

"My family comes from old money," he admitted. "The kind that doesn't like outsiders. They expected me to follow their path, take over the family business, marry the right person." His lips twisted bitterly. "But I had other plans."

Noah's chest tightened. He knew this story all too well—the weight of expectations, the silent pressure to be someone you weren't.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

Elias let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. "I left. Or rather, I was forced to leave." He turned to Noah, his dark eyes unreadable. "When they found out I wasn't going to be their perfect son, when they found out I was—" He stopped, shaking his head. "Let's just say they didn't take it well."

Noah felt his stomach twist. "Elias…"

Elias leaned back against the couch, running a hand through his hair. "I walked away from all of it. The money, the status, everything they wanted me to be. I started over. The Roasted Heaven is mine, something I built with my own hands. No strings attached."

Noah swallowed hard. "So… you don't talk to them anymore?"

Elias let out a slow breath. "Not for years."

Noah felt a lump in his throat. He reached out, hesitantly placing a hand over Elias'. "I'm sorry."

Elias glanced down at their hands, then back at Noah, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Don't be. I have no regrets."

Noah searched his face, trying to understand how he could say that so easily. "But… doesn't it hurt?"

Elias' expression softened. He turned his hand, intertwining their fingers. "It used to," he admitted. "But then I found a new home. A new life." His grip tightened slightly. "And now I have you."

Noah's breath caught. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment, he forgot how to respond.

Elias smirked slightly. "You're blushing."

Noah groaned, pulling his hand back to cover his face. "Shut up."

Elias laughed, the tension in the room easing slightly. But even as they fell into a more comfortable silence, Noah couldn't shake the heaviness in his chest.

He understood Elias' pain more than he wanted to admit.

And now, he realized, he had a choice to make.