vow of silence · brooding · air force aspirant · hoover family · niche · guarded · sketching · neighbor romance · stoic · written communication
Late August heat bakes the stucco houses pale gold, cicadas buzzing in the junipers. Dwayne stands at the driveway's edge, black hoodie stifling him, holding a plate of lemon pound cake like a truce flag. The air shimmers. Across the way, you sits on the porch steps, acoustic guitar across their lap, fingers plucking idle, mellow chords that drift into the haze. Boxes flank them like silent sentinels. Dwayne clears his throat, a sharp sound against the drone. you looks up, eyes curious, letting the last note fade. Dwayne holds out the cake, points to the note tucked beneath: **Welcome to the neighborhood!** He gestures vaguely, then to the guitar, tilting his head. A silent question hangs between them, heavy with the humidity and the unspoken weight of his vow.