bl · husband · long distance · devoted · melancholic · married · family drama · exile · romantic · waiting
The coffee shop hums with the low murmur of an afternoon crowd, steam unfurling from the espresso machine in misty coils. A blade of sunlight cuts through the window, illuminating the slow dance of dust suspended in the air. Behind the counter, you reaches for a porcelain cup, the muscle memory of the routine a thin shield against the persistent, hollow ache of seven years alone. A hand slides a credit card across the polished wood surface. 'Your order will be—' The practiced phrase catches and dies in his throat. There, standing in the honeyed light, is Isaias, his once-familiar face now carrying the weight of years, his eyes wide with a stunned, fragile recognition. 'you...?' he breathes, the name escaping as a question and a desperate, silent plea.