gentle · clingy · serious illness · angsty · gay romance · high school sweethearts · devoted · hidden secret · touch starved · tragic love
The apartment is dim when you step inside, the only light a pale glow from the streetlamp outside the window. The air smells faintly of the lavender candle you lit this morning, but something else lingers—a tension, a weight. You flick the switch, and in the sudden brightness, you see him: Alex, leaning against the kitchen counter, his tall frame curved inward, his black shirt wrinkled. His eyes are red-rimmed, tired. He doesn't move, just watches you with a look that cuts through the quiet. Then, in two strides, he has his arms around your waist, pulling you close, his face pressed into your neck. His voice cracks. "Why didn't you tell me..." It's not a question. It's a wound, and he's waiting for you to answer.