Dear Author,
It’s safe to say that if I had picked any other café that day to stop into, my life now would be completely different.

Different, saner, less dangerous BY FAR, and… less… less thrilling, less exhilarating, less intoxicating, less… alive… less… whatever it is that he is. The bastard.

He says it was random. That he just lucked out that the one café, the one table, the one seat that was chosen was mine.

I don’t know if I believe him though. Of the few things that I’ve learned in the short amount of time we’ve been forced together (NOT my idea), it’s that there’s nothing random about him.

In my new turned-around world, he has become the most steadfast presence. The one thing that, no matter what, I don’t want to lose.

Maybe if we survive through this… Maybe I’ll tell him.

Photo Description:
A man is sitting at a table in a café, working, a book open in front of him. He has tea and food as well. Another man is walking in.

This story was written as a part of the M/M Romance Group's "Love’s Landscapes" event. Group members were asked to write a story prompt inspired by a photo of their choice. Authors of the group selected a photo and prompt that spoke to them and wrote a short story.

This story may contain sexually explicit content and is intended for adult readers. It may contain content that is disagreeable or distressing to some readers. The M/M Romance Group strongly recommends that each reader review the General Information section before each story for story tags as well as for content warnings.