The scent of fresh paint and new beginnings still lingered in Rowan's new house as he settled in, but his mind wasn't focused on unpacking. Instead, his thoughts swirled around the message from Oliver. "Need to talk." It wasn't like Oliver to be cryptic, and that made Rowan anxious.

Before heading to the diner, Rowan found himself drawn to his new high-tech science machine in the lab. The state-of-the-art setup gleamed under the bright LED lighting, a gift from the Appaloosa Science Center to encourage his work. The entire lab was immaculate - crisp white walls, smooth polished floors, and sleek glass shelving that displayed neatly arranged equipment. The space felt futuristic, almost sterile, but in a way that made Rowan feel like he had stepped into his dream workspace.

He ran a hand over the cool surface of the pristine black workbench, a giddy sense of excitement bubbling in his chest. This was his space - his own sanctuary for discovery, innovation, and pushing the boundaries of what he could accomplish. He had spent years tinkering in makeshift areas, struggling for proper resources, and now? Now he had everything he needed.

Tonight, he was running an experiment on synthetic biofuel efficiency. Rowan carefully placed the samples into the machine, adjusting the settings for optimal heat and pressure control. Graphs and data streams appeared on the monitor as the chemical reaction unfolded in real-time, the machine analyzing molecular shifts with precision.

He watched, fascinated, as the machine simulated environmental impact projections based on his formula. The results displayed in glowing blue letters - potential breakthrough in alternative energy. His pulse quickened. This was the kind of work that could change everything.

He grinned, unable to help himself. "This is unreal," he muttered under his breath, still taking in every detail of the lab. "I could stay in here forever."

But his excitement was short-lived. The text from Oliver still lingered in his mind, pulling him away from his research. With one last glance at the glowing screen, he saved the data and powered down the machine.

That evening, he pulled into the diner parking lot where they had agreed to meet. The neon sign flickered in the twilight, casting a familiar glow over the entrance. Rowan took a deep breath before stepping inside. The place was busy but not chaotic - just the right level of noise to make conversations feel private.

Oliver was already there, seated at their usual booth in the corner, drumming his fingers against the tabletop. He looked up as Rowan approached, offering a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You looked serious in that text," Rowan said as he slid into the seat across from him. "What's up?"

Oliver exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I've been thinking about a lot of things lately." He paused, tapping his fingers again before meeting Rowan's gaze. "About us. About the future."

Rowan's stomach twisted slightly, but he kept his face neutral. "Alright? keep going."

Oliver let out a soft chuckle. "I know you're staying in Appaloosa Plains, and I get it. You've got your new place, your lab - your whole future mapped out here. And that's amazing, Rowan. I mean it."

"But?" Rowan prompted.

Oliver hesitated, then leaned forward. "But I don't know if I can stay."

The words hit Rowan harder than he expected. He swallowed. "You're thinking of leaving?"

Oliver nodded. "I got accepted into a program in Bridgeport. It's? a big deal. Media, journalism, everything I've wanted to do since I was a kid. And I love this town, I love - " He stopped himself, shaking his head. "I just? I don't know what to do. Because part of me feels like leaving means leaving us behind, too."

Rowan's heart pounded. The idea of Oliver leaving had never crossed his mind. They had always been a constant in each other's lives.

"When do you have to decide?" Rowan asked, voice quieter than he intended.

"Soon," Oliver admitted. "And I need to know where we stand before I make that choice."

A lump formed in Rowan's throat. Where we stand.

Rowan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know what you want me to say, Oliver. This is your dream, and I don't want to be the reason you don't go after it."

Oliver frowned. "That's not what I'm asking, Rowan. I just - " He exhaled, frustration flickering in his expression. "I just need to know if this?" He gestured between them. "If we mean something to you. Because if I leave, I don't want to go wondering if I walked away from something real."

Rowan opened his mouth, then closed it, struggling for words. "Of course you mean something to me. You're - Oliver, you've always been more than just my best friend. But I didn't think we'd ever have to talk about it. It's just? always been there."

Oliver let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Well, we're talking about it now. And I need an answer."

Rowan's chest tightened. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, forcing him to acknowledge things he had never dared to say out loud. "I don't want you to go," he admitted finally, his voice raw. "But I also don't want to hold you back."

Oliver held his gaze, his expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he nodded slowly. "That's honest. I can work with that."

Rowan let out a shaky breath, some of the tension easing. "So? what happens now?"

Oliver shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I don't know. But at least we're finally talking about it. That's a start, right?"

Rowan nodded, feeling something shift between them - something delicate, uncertain, but undeniably real. "Yeah. It is."

For now, that was enough.