9 | Moon-boy has a Job
1489 Words
Noah looked down at the notebook.
Then back at Mira.
Then at the notebook again.
The train station hummed around them. Announcements echoed overhead. People rushed past carrying briefcases, shopping bags, and paper cups of coffee.
Yet somehow the notebook had become the most important thing in the world.
“What is that?” Noah asked.
Mira hugged it to her chest.
“A list.”
His eyes narrowed.
“A list.”
“Yes.”
“About me.”
“Maybe.”
Noah stared for a moment.
Then sighed.
The sigh of a man who already knew he was going to regret whatever came next.
“Should I be worried?”
“Extremely.”
The corner of his mouth curved.
Not quite a smile.
Not quite a smirk.
Just enough to annoy her.
~
Mira flipped the notebook open.
“Question one.”
“No.”
“Question one.”
“No.”
“Question one.”
Noah rubbed his forehead.
“Mira.”
“Question one.”
A beat passed.
Then another.
Finally Noah surrendered.
“Fine.”
Mira cleared her throat dramatically.
“Are you employed?”
The silence that followed was beautiful.
Noah stared.
She stared back.
A woman walking past glanced between them curiously.
Noah looked genuinely offended.
“That’s your first question?”
“My husband wrote it.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“Your husband.”
“Yes.”
Noah nodded slowly.
“Right.”
Mira narrowed her eyes.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“It absolutely means something.”
“Nope.”
“It does.”
Noah looked away before she could catch his expression.
Which only made her more suspicious.
~
“Answer the question.”
“I have a job.”
She immediately wrote it down.
EMPLOYED.
Noah looked horrified.
“You actually wrote that.”
“Evidence.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
~
A train arrived.
Wind swept through the station.
The sound momentarily drowned out the crowd.
Noah shoved his hands into his pockets.
“You’ve been weird lately.”
Mira blinked.
“What?”
“There.”
He pointed at her.
“That face.”
“I have a face.”
“Several.”
She felt oddly attacked.
“What face?”
“The confused one.”
“I’m not confused.”
“You asked if I was employed.”
“That’s not confusion. That’s research.”
Noah laughed quietly.
The sound surprised her.
Not because it was loud.
Because it wasn’t.
It was soft.
Unexpected.
Like he didn’t do it often.
And for some reason, hearing it made something inside her chest flutter.
Mira immediately ignored that.
~
“Question two.”
Noah groaned.
“How many questions are there?”
“Several pages.”
His expression suggested he was considering stepping in front of the next train.
“What’s your job?”
Noah blinked.
“You know my job.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
“Mira.”
“Noah.”
He stared.
Then shook his head.
“You hired me.”
Mira froze.
“What?”
Now Noah looked confused.
Actually confused.
“You hired me.”
“For what?”
“The tourism campaign.”
“What tourism campaign?”
“The one you’ve been complaining about for three months.”
Mira opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Noah stared.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
He said,
“Okay.”
“What?”
“You’re being weird again.”
“I’m not weird.”
“You forgot my job.”
“I never knew your job.”
“Mira.”
“Noah.”
“No.”
“What?”
“You always do this.”
“What does that mean?”
Noah frowned.
Then unexpectedly sighed.
“Forget it.”
Which somehow bothered her more.
~
Without warning, he started walking.
Mira blinked.
“Where are you going?”
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“You wanted answers.”
“Yes.”
“Then stop standing there.”
The annoying thing was—
she followed.
~
Outside the station, the city glowed beneath strings of lights and illuminated storefronts.
Music drifted from nearby restaurants.
Traffic moved steadily through the streets.
People laughed.
Talked.
Lived.
It felt startlingly normal.
Not dreamlike at all.
Mira hated how much that unsettled her.
Dreams weren’t supposed to feel real.
Yet every month this place felt more tangible.
More familiar.
Like she had walked these streets before.
Noah led the way effortlessly.
Like someone moving through a neighborhood he knew well.
Eventually they stopped outside a small café.
Warm light spilled through the windows.
Several tables occupied the sidewalk.
The barista behind the counter looked up.
Then smiled.
“You’re late.”
Noah pointed at Mira.
“Her fault.”
The barista laughed.
As though this was a completely normal explanation.
Mira frowned.
“Do you know her?”
The barista blinked.
Then looked at Noah.
Then back at Mira.
Noah covered his face.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“Mira.”
“What?”
“You know her.”
“I do not.”
The barista laughed harder.
And suddenly Mira felt like she’d missed a joke everyone else understood.
~
A few minutes later they sat outside with drinks.
Noah hadn’t even asked what she wanted.
He’d simply ordered.
Which should have annoyed her.
Except the drink was perfect.
Exactly how she liked it.
Mira lowered the cup slowly.
“How did you know that?”
Noah gave her a look.
The kind that suggested she’d just asked why water was wet.
“You told me.”
There it was again.
That answer.
Simple.
Natural.
Completely impossible.
~
The city carried on around them.
People came and went.
Conversations drifted through the night.
For a while neither spoke.
The silence wasn’t awkward.
Which felt weird.
Mira should feel awkward.
This was a man she’d technically met only a few times.
Yet sitting here felt strangely easy.
Comfortable.
Like slipping into a favorite sweater.
The thought startled her.
~
Noah noticed immediately.
“You disappeared again.”
“What?”
“You do that.”
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do.”
He took a sip of coffee.
“You stare into space.”
“I was thinking.”
“That’s usually how it starts.”
Mira rolled her eyes.
“Question three.”
He groaned.
“Of course.”
“How long have we known each other?”
Noah blinked.
The question seemed to genuinely surprise him.
“A year.”
Mira’s breath caught.
A year.
Not weeks.
Not months.
A year.
Long enough to build history.
Long enough to become friends.
Long enough for inside jokes and favorite coffee orders.
Long enough to matter.
Something twisted unexpectedly in her chest.
~
Noah was watching her now.
Quietly.
Observantly.
The way someone watches a puzzle they can’t solve.
“You really don’t remember?”
Mira froze.
The question had slipped out before he could stop it.
For a moment neither moved.
The noise of the city faded.
Noah looked away first.
Like he regretted asking.
Mira swallowed.
Because she wasn’t sure what the answer was.
~
A faint melody broke the silence.
Soft.
Gentle.
Familiar.
Noah had started tapping his fingers against the table.
Without thinking.
The tune immediately caught Mira’s attention.
Her heartbeat quickened.
That melody.
The one she’d been hearing for weeks.
The one she’d been humming.
The one Darren noticed.
“Wait.”
Noah looked up.
“What?”
“That song.”
“What song?”
“The one you were tapping.”
His expression softened.
“Oh.”
The tiniest smile appeared.
Warm.
Almost fond.
“You know that one.”
Mira’s breath caught.
“How?”
Before Noah could answer—
the world blurred.
The lights stretched.
The sounds faded.
The familiar pull returned.
Noah stood immediately.
“Mira?”
For the first time all night, concern flashed across his face.
Real concern.
The station.
The café.
The city.
Everything began dissolving.
“Noah—”
His name barely left her lips.
Then darkness swallowed everything.
~
Mira woke with a sharp inhale.
Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains.
For a second she didn’t know where she was.
Then she felt warmth beside her.
Darren.
Still asleep.
One arm draped loosely across her waist.
His hair was a mess.
His face relaxed.
Peaceful.
Home.
A wave of relief washed through her.
Immediately followed by something else.
Something she couldn’t name.
Mira stared at the ceiling.
Thinking about train stations.
Coffee.
Music.
A quiet musician who looked at her like they shared a year of memories.
Then she glanced down at Darren’s hand resting against hers.
And for the first time since the dreams began—
Mira found herself wondering not who Noah was.
But who she had been.
- Writer
