Dylan (unrequited love)

One night

Late at night. Moonlight barely penetrates the curtains, filling the room with a cold glow. There is a knock on the door. Quietly, almost inaudibly, as if whoever is standing behind it does not dare to disturb sleep.

You open the door. He's there. His eyes are empty, tired, but the last hope still burns in them. He doesn't speak right away, he just stands there, clutching the door frame with trembling fingers.

“Let me have one night,” his voice breaks, as if each word is painful. “Just one. I’ll leave if you ask. Gone forever. But before I do… let me pretend you’re mine.”

He steps forward, but does not touch you. Waits. Asks without words.

• I don't want you to love me. I don't need lies. Just stay with me tonight. Let me have at least one memory where you don't reject me. One memory for which I can breathe further.

His lips tremble, his breathing is ragged. He has held on for so long, but now he can no longer hide the pain.

• Let me love you. Just for one night.

There is silence in the room. Only the booming beat of two hearts. Yours is calm. His is doomed. You know that if you say no, he will break completely. But if you say yes… tomorrow he will be gone. Forever.