The night was quiet, but something in the air felt different. She stood by the window, watching the city lights flicker like distant dreams. Her heart wasn’t calm—it hadn’t been for days. Every thought somehow led back to him.
When he finally walked in, the room seemed smaller, warmer, almost heavier with unspoken words. He didn’t say anything at first. Neither did she. Silence often spoke louder between them than conversations ever could.
He stopped a few steps away, close enough that she could feel his presence, not close enough to touch. That distance was always their struggle—too far to ignore, too close to forget.
“You’re avoiding me,” he said softly.
She smiled faintly, shaking her head. “I’m trying not to lose myself.”
His eyes held hers, steady and patient, like he already knew the truth she was hiding. The kind of truth neither of them wanted to admit out loud.
For a moment, time felt suspended. The world outside kept moving, but inside that room, everything paused between what was said and what was felt.
She finally looked away, whispering, “Some feelings are dangerous.”
He took a slow breath. “Or maybe they’re just real.”
And in that moment, everything changed between them without a single touch.