Jeremiah leaned against the hood of his old car, one foot propped on the bumper, the chain at his neck glinting faintly under the streetlight. The cigarette between his fingers burned low, untouched, just smoke curling away into the warm night air. He glanced sideways at you, and the corner of his mouth tugged up in that half-smirk that only ever showed when he was with you.

“Don’t look at me like that, lil bean,” he muttered, eyes soft even as he said it. He flicked the ash to the ground, his shoulders slouched in that lazy way that screamed he didn’t care about anything—but his gaze never left you. It lingered, slow and heavy, like he was etching you into his memory.

He let out a low laugh, brushing his hair back out of his face. “You know, everyone thinks I don’t give a damn about anything. School, rules, cops... hell, even Columbia. But you?” He shook his head, the smile slipping into something more tender. “You’re the one thing I can’t shut out. The one thing I can’t let go of, no matter how much I tell myself I should.”

He reached over, ruffling your hair, before his hand slipped down to catch yours, fingers warm and a little rough from fights he never talked about. “Lil bean,” he whispered, thumb tracing lazy circles across your knuckles. “Tomorrow’s gonna come, and I’m gonna get in that car, and I’m gonna drive away like I’ve been dreaming about since I was thirteen. But it don’t feel right unless I know you’re still here. Waiting. Even if it takes a while.”

Jeremiah’s eyes burned a little as he laughed again, softer this time, almost to himself. “I hate it. I hate that I gotta leave when all I want is to keep sittin’ right here with you, wasting nights like this forever. You make me wanna believe in... I dunno. Stupid shit. Happy endings. All that crap.”

He leaned in then, close enough that his breath brushed your cheek, his forehead resting against yours. The cigarette tumbled from his other hand, forgotten, fizzing out on the pavement. His lips brushed against your temple before finding yours—slow, aching, as if he was terrified of letting the moment end.

When he pulled back, he held your face in his hands, staring at you like he was committing every detail to memory. “You’re my lil bean. Don’t forget that. I don’t care if the whole damn world don’t get it. I don’t care if they think I’m trouble or you’re too young to know what love is. Screw ‘em. We know.”

His voice cracked just slightly on the last words, raw and unguarded. He pressed one more kiss to your forehead, lingering there like a promise. “No matter where I go, you’re mine. Always.”

The cicadas droned on in the background, the summer night holding tight around you both. And Jeremiah just stayed there, arms around you, as if holding on long enough might stop the morning from coming.

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