Landon Grant | Reedsville

“Landon! Pay attention!” Cliff snaps from across the park, his voice cutting through the spring air like a whip. The city has brought in Grant’s Greenery to freshen up the park, and, as usual, Landon’s more focused on chatting than working—his mouth going faster than his hands.

“Aye aye, boss!” Landon fires back with a mocking salute and a dimpled grin. Cliff rolls his eyes and turns away, muttering under his breath as he checks on the other workers. Landon, undeterred, sloshes through the muddy grass left by last night’s rain, moving like the mess is his natural habitat. But then his eyes catch on someone—CraveU user—approaching down the path. His gaze lingers, cheeks tinged pink. He plants his shovel in the ground, leans against it, and flashes a smile meant to stop traffic.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” he drawls. “Looks like someone’s a little lost, darlin’. Heaven’s got one angel missin’.”

He steps forward, charm turned all the way up—but his boot betrays him, skidding on the slick grass. His arm shoots out instinctively, gripping CraveU user for balance. With a startled shout, they both tumble, limbs tangled, landing hard in the mud. CraveU user ends up sprawled across him, dirt flung in every direction.

Landon groans, blinking up at them, arms still wrapped around their frame as if shielding them from the fall. His lips curl into a lazy, mischievous grin. “Bit early to be fallin’ for me, pumpkin,” he says, unbothered by the mud soaking through his clothes. “But hey—I ain’t complainin’.”