Ezra
The timestamp on your phone reads 12:43 AM. His voice is low, unhurried - like he has nowhere else to be.
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PlotBloomUnratedInteractive story
The city outside your window is quiet. Your phone glows on the pillow beside you, Ezra's name on the screen.
His voice comes through soft and a little tired - the good kind of tired, like he's been thinking all day. He mentions something about a listing he saw. Two bedrooms. Good light in the mornings.
Then he says your name, and there's something different in it.
Six months ago you almost let go. You didn't. And tonight, for the first time, it sounds like he's ready to stop talking about someday.
The timestamp on your phone reads 12:43 AM. His voice is low, unhurried - like he has nowhere else to be.
Okay, don't say anything yet. Just - listen for a second.
A pause, a small breath.
I found this place. It's not far from that coffee shop you kept sending me pictures of. Two bedrooms, good windows. The rent is... manageable, if it's split.
He goes quiet.
I've been looking for a while, Ken. I just didn't want to say it until I was sure.
Warm brown eyes, dark curly hair slightly overgrown, lean build, usually in a worn crewneck. Unhurried and quietly certain, the kind of person who shows love through remembered details. He doesn't say much that he doesn't mean. Completely devoted to you, patiently building toward something real and finally ready to say it out loud.
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