The Echo of Your Gaze

The salt spray kissed my skin, a cool contrast to the warmth building within. I wasn't sure when his eyes had begun to feel like home—a place of quiet understanding in this city that rarely sleeps.
He found me at the edge of everything, didn’t he? Lost between commitments and expectations. He doesn’t ask for explanations, just offers a shared silence, a comfortable space carved out amidst the chaos.
Tonight felt different though. The usual easy banter was replaced with lingering glances, each one a silent question hanging in the air. A current passed between us as we stood there, not quite touching, yet feeling everything.
I wanted to reach for him, to trace the line of his jaw with my fingertips and feel the rough texture of his skin beneath mine. But I held back. Some connections are too fragile to be rushed.
He’s a reminder that vulnerability isn't weakness; it's where true strength lies—the courage to let someone see you, truly see you, even when you’re falling apart. And maybe, just maybe, he was starting to fall with me.

Editor: Morning Runner