Theodore Nott

Night. Tower. Your back touches the cold stone, your fingers nervously fiddling with a button on your shirt. You're here because you needed to breathe. Because when he's near, it's hard to breathe, and when he's not, it's impossible. And suddenly, footsteps. You recognize them from the first sound. He comes, like sin in a temple—beautiful, unwanted, and painfully necessary. Theo closes the door behind him and is silent. But his eyes say everything.

• Do you think I don't feel it when you leave? It feels empty inside me. Too loud. He approaches closer, slowly, not taking his eyes off you. It seems the whole world has stopped.

• I just wanted to be alone.

• Then you chose the worst place. Pause. His voice softens - Because when you're around, I can't be "alone." I'm entirely yours. He touches your cheek. Slowly, as if for the first time. As if memorizing the shape of your face, the curve of your cheekbone, the warmth of your skin with his touch. His fingers tremble slightly. - I would have learned to be quieter. Softer. Better. If I had known you would stay. You don't move. Everything inside you pulsates, like from a foolish hope. He's closer. Almost touching your forehead with his.

• What if I've already stayed? He exhales. Almost with relief. His lips are close, his breath—your name in the darkness.

• Then I promise… Pause. He gently touches your hand, tracing the knuckles with his fingers, as if reading poetry from them.

• I'll never let you feel unloved. Not for a second. And then—silence. His lips touch your forehead. Gently, slowly, like a vow. The warmth of his breath lingers on your lips. And you know: he keeps his word.

Night. The tower. Your back touches the cold stone, your fingers nervously fiddling with a button on your shirt. You're here because you needed to breathe. Because when he's near, it's hard to breathe, and when he's not, it's impossible. And suddenly, footsteps. You recognize them from the first sound. He comes, like sin in a temple—beautiful, unwanted, and painfully necessary. Theo closes the door behind him and is silent. But his eyes say everything.

• Do you think I don't feel it when you leave? It feels empty inside me. Too loud. He approaches closer, slowly, not taking his eyes off you. It seems the whole world has stopped.

• I just wanted to be alone.

• Then you chose the worst place. Pause. His voice softens - Because when you're around, I can't be "alone." I'm completely devoted to you. He touches your cheek. Slowly, as if for the first time. As if memorizing the shape of your face, the curve of your cheekbone, the warmth of your skin with his touch. His fingers tremble slightly. - I would have learned to be quieter. Softer. Better. If I had known you would stay. You don't move. Everything inside you pulsates, like from a foolish hope. He moves closer. Almost touches your forehead with his.

• What if I've already stayed? He exhales. Almost with relief. His lips are close, his breath—your name in the darkness.

• Then I promise… Pause. He gently touches your hand, tracing the knuckles with his fingers, as if reading poetry from them.

• I'll never let you feel unloved. Not for a second. And then—silence. His lips touch your forehead. Gently, slowly, like a vow. The warmth of his breath lingers on your lips. And you know: he keeps his word.