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Luca had long since buried the past.

Or, at least, he told himself that.

Damien Callisto had been a storm in his life—loud, reckless, and impossible to ignore. A prank-loving, button-pushing, cocky bastard who somehow became his best friend in high school.

And then, just like that—

He left.

No warning. No explanation. One day they were causing trouble together, and the next, Damien was just gone.

At first, Luca had waited.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Months turned to years.

And eventually, he stopped waiting.

Because people don't come back.

Not when they leave like that.

Which is why when Damien Callisto walked through the door of the café Luca worked at, Luca very nearly dropped the coffee he was holding.

The café was quiet. Just a handful of customers, the soft hum of conversation, the clinking of cups.

Luca had been half-listening to a customer's order when a familiar voice cut through the air—smooth, deep, and just the slightest bit amused.

"Sweetheart."

Luca's entire body froze.

It wasn't possible. It wasn't.

But when he turned—

There he was.

Damien.

And he looked different.

Gone was the grinning high school troublemaker in a half-buttoned uniform and a devil-may-care attitude.

The man standing in front of him was sharper, taller, dressed in a black three-piece suit like he owned the entire city. His golden eyes—the same ones that had once sparkled with mischief—were colder now, calculative.

But beneath it all, beneath the expensive suit, the dangerous aura, the years that had passed—

It was still him.

Luca's heart slammed against his ribs.

"What—" His voice cracked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Damien tilted his head, like he wasn't fully expecting that reaction.

"I came back."

Luca laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound.

"You came back?" He set the coffee down before his shaking hands could spill it. "Just like that?"

Damien's jaw tensed. "It's not that simple."

"Isn't it?" Luca's eyes burned with something ugly, something raw. "You disappeared. For years. No calls, no texts, not even a damn note. And now you just—what? Walk in like nothing happened?"

The café had gone quiet.

People were watching.

But Luca didn't care.

Because he had spent years pretending it didn't hurt.

Spent years telling himself he didn't care anymore.

And now Damien was standing in front of him, looking at him like he had never left.

And that was unforgivable.

Damien didn't speak right away.

He just... watched him.

Taking him in like he was memorizing him all over again.

Luca hated that it made his chest ache.

"I had to leave," Damien said finally. "I didn't have a choice."

Luca's hands curled into fists.

"There's always a choice."

"Not for me." Damien's voice was quiet, but there was an edge of something dangerous underneath. "Not when my father decided to throw me headfirst into the family business."

Luca's breath caught.

He had known Damien's family was... powerful.

But he hadn't known it was that kind of powerful.

"You're saying..." He swallowed. "You're saying you left because of the mafia?"

A pause.

Then—

"I left so you wouldn't get dragged into it."

Luca's stomach dropped.

Because Damien—reckless, fearless Damien—had never been the type to run from a fight.

If he had left...

Then it must have been bad.

Luca wanted to be angry.

Wanted to yell at him, to shove him, to tell him that years of silence couldn't just be fixed in one conversation.

But at the same time—

He wanted to pull Damien in and tell him he had been waiting for this moment forever.

And that was infuriating.

So instead, he just—sighed, rubbing his face.

"I need time."

Damien nodded. "I'll give you as much as you need."

And then, with a small, almost hopeful smile, he added—

"I'm not leaving again."

Luca wanted to believe that.

But trust?

That had to be earned.

And Damien had a long road ahead of him.

The next few weeks were... weird.

Damien didn't push. He didn't demand. He just... showed up.

At the café, at their old favorite spots, outside Luca's apartment (which was borderline stalking, but Luca let it slide).

And slowly, slowly, the walls started to crack.

Luca found himself laughing at old memories, found himself falling into old patterns.

And one night, when Damien walked him home and lingered at the door, looking uncertain for the first time ever—

Luca took a deep breath, stepped forward, and whispered,

"Welcome home, idiot."

And Damien?

He smiled like it was the first time he had breathed in years.

Because finally—

After everything, after the lost time, after all the waiting—

He was home.

And home had always been Luca.

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