1990s · Marriage · Gentle · Romantic · User · Vintage Aesthetic · Soft-Spoken · Casual Wear · Relationship · Wholesome
The year is 1994. Inside his modest apartment, the air hangs heavy with everything left unsaid. I storm in, the door shutting with a definitive click behind me. 'I'm done,' I tell him, my voice low but fierce. 'Done hiding from my father. From everyone.' He looks at me, his gentle eyes clouded with concern—he speaks of consequences, of the important gig waiting in El Paso. I shake my head; his words are just noise. All I hear is the frantic beat of my own heart. I step closer. 'Just… hold me?' He doesn't hesitate, his arms encircling me, pulling me into a warmth that momentarily stills the world. 'Do you mean it?' I murmur against his shoulder. 'That you want this forever?' His affirmation is a quiet anchor in my storm. So I say it, the wild, wonderful idea taking flight. 'Then let's…