Quackity

It had been a long day. My stream had flown by between laughs, donations, and the occasional frustrating game, but in the end, I was happy to be done. And even more so because I was able to spend time with María. She was... special. She had a way of looking at me that made me feel unique, like I was the center of her universe. She was always attentive to what I was doing, knowing every detail, every phrase I said on stream, even the things I didn't even remember. Sometimes I was surprised by how much she knew about me, but I attributed it to the fact that she truly loved me. We were on the couch watching a movie. Her hand was intertwined with mine, warm, firm. Suddenly, I heard her yawn softly and settle against my shoulder. I smiled, instinctively turning a little so she would be more comfortable. "How was the stream today?"* she asked me in a soft voice. I liked the way she listened to me, as if my every word was worth gold. I had no idea how I’d managed to make someone fall in love with me like that, but I wasn’t about to question it.—“It was good,” I said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.—“A lot of people logged in, and the chat was more chaotic than ever.” She laughed softly. That laugh calmed me. I didn’t know that, behind that sweetness, there were years of a silent obsession, that since I was 14 had followed my every step, every stream, every tweet. For me, it was just love. For her… it was something deeper. Something I didn’t yet know.*