The rain fell in heavy sheets, soaking the cobblestone streets of Port Bellingham. Inside the dimly lit café on Main Street, a crowd of locals gathered for warmth, the scent of coffee and fresh pastries curling in the air.

Amid the hum of conversation, two voices stood out—sharp, irritated, and unmistakably at odds.

"I'm saying your so-called 'modernist' take on urban development is nothing but glass and steel monstrosities," Celeste Harper snapped, her eyes flashing as she crossed her arms. "You tear down the history of a place and call it progress."

Adrian Cole leaned back against the counter, smirking as he stirred his espresso. "And I'm saying your obsession with nostalgia is why this town is stuck in the past. If it weren't for me, half these buildings would be crumbling from neglect."

The barista, used to their routine debates, rolled her eyes and slid their orders onto the counter.

Celeste grabbed her tea with a huff, while Adrian casually took his cup, unfazed by her irritation.

They were the kind of rivals who thrived on opposition—Celeste, a preservationist fighting to protect Port Bellingham's historic charm and Adrian, the ambitious architect determined to reshape it into something new.

Every town meeting, every development proposal, every editorial column in the Bellingham Gazette was another battleground.

But today felt different.

Maybe it was the storm raging outside, pressing them into closer quarters. Or the way Adrian's gaze lingered on Celeste a moment too long before he spoke again.

"Tell you what," he said, his voice lower now. "You're so sure my designs have no soul? Let me prove you wrong. Meet me at the site of my next project. I'll show you what I see."

Celeste narrowed her eyes, weighing the challenge. The idea of spending time alone with Adrian outside of a heated town hall meeting made her skin prickle—but the chance to tear apart his ideas up close? Irresistible.

"Fine," she said, lifting her chin. "But don't expect me to be impressed."

A slow, knowing grin spread across Adrian's face. "Oh, I never do."

As she turned to leave, Celeste ignored the strange twist in her stomach, blaming it on the lingering scent of his cologne rather than the undeniable thrill of their never-ending battle.

For now.