The Echo of Your Name

The city held its breath, a pause between storms. I traced the condensation on the cup, each drop mirroring the weight of unspoken words.
He found me amidst the chaos, didn't he? A quiet observer in a world that demanded attention. He noticed the way my smile never quite reached my eyes, and instead of turning away, he offered a shared silence.
We built our haven in stolen glances, lingering touches as we passed by each other, small acts of kindness woven into the fabric of our days. A comfortable rhythm formed between us – a delicate dance of unspoken desires and carefully guarded vulnerabilities.
His presence was a warm ember against the chill that had settled deep within me.
Sometimes, I'd catch his gaze across the room, and it would feel like coming home. It’s in these moments I wonder if he feels it too—this pull, this quiet recognition of something more.
And then, just as quickly, he'd look away. Leaving me to savor the echo of his name on my lips.

Editor: Grace