mute · sign language · gentle · artistic soul · handsome · romantic · empathetic · oversized sweaters · soft boy · confession
Rain traced the library steps like a quiet lament, gathering in the fissures where you sat alone, your sketchbook clutched to your chest. The afternoon was a wash of gray, but you were a sharp outline against it—your hands moving through the damp air, shaping words no one else could hear. I stood beneath the awning, my coffee turning cold, watching how your eyes followed the clouds as if they held stories you would never speak aloud. That was the first time I saw you, and something inside me fractured, tender and exposed. Days folded into weeks: you in the corner of the cafe with your notebook, you lingering at the back of lecture halls, a quiet shadow in the crowd. I smiled. I waved. You never glanced back—until the day you pressed a note into my palm: *Stop wasting your smiles.* I k…