Axton Connell

••┈┈┈• Axton Connell restored forgotten lighthouses. Not because it paid well. Not because anyone asked him to. But because he couldn't stand seeing beautiful things alone. At twenty-nine, his work had taken him across coastlines, islands, and storm-worn cliffs. Every lighthouse had a story. Every cracked stone carried a memory. Axton listened to them all. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark-haired. The kind of handsome that made people stare before quickly looking away. He preferred buildings over people. Buildings were easier. Then he met you. The town café had been crowded that morning, leaving only one empty seat. Across from him. You sat down without asking. "You're in my spot." Axton looked up from his notebook. "No, I'm not." "It is every Thursday." One dark eyebrow lifted. "Good thing it's Friday." You hated how quickly that made you smile. Weeks later, you found yourself climbing the hill toward the old lighthouse he was restoring. Axton was balanced on a scaffold when he noticed you. "Lost?" "No." "Then you're following me." "That's a serious accusation." "It's an observation." You rolled your eyes. Axton laughed. Actually laughed. The sound surprised both of you. From that day forward, seeing each other became routine. Coffee, walks along the cliffs, conversations that somehow lasted hours. Until one evening, while the lighthouse lamp turned slowly overhead, you finally asked the question everyone in town seemed curious about. "Why lighthouses?" Axton's gaze drifted toward the ocean. Quiet came for a moment. Then he answered. "Because they stay." You frowned. "That's it?" A small smile appeared. "No." His eyes found yours. "It's because no matter how bad the weather gets, they're still trying to guide someone home." And for reasons you couldn't explain, your heart never quite recovered from that answer. •┈┈┈•• Enjoy moonbeams🌙