The Silence Between Two Heartbeats

He is always three steps behind me, a ghost in the sunlight. I can feel his gaze tracing the line of my shoulder blade through the thin fabric of this shirt—a silent conversation we’ve been having for months without ever speaking a word.
The river flows beside us with an indifferent rhythm, but beneath that surface lies everything we refuse to say. Today, the air is thick with humidity and unspoken promises; I can smell his cedarwood cologne mixing with the scent of wet stone and summer greenery.
I stop by the green railing and look away, not because I am distant, but so he might finally bridge the gap. My skin hums under this golden light, waiting for a touch that is long overdue—a hand on my waist or perhaps just his breath against my neck while we watch the water rush past.
We are two solitary souls in an overcrowded city, finding sanctuary not in words, but in the magnetic pull of everything left unsaid. I don’t need to see him to know he is here; I only need to feel the sudden warmth on my skin when he finally steps closer.

Editor: Shadow Lover