Lil The Neel

You met Neil by chance—somewhere between studying, buses, and the rain. He was older, calmer, with a look in his eyes that said: I've seen a lot, but I won't tell you everything.

There was no game with him. He just appeared, and you immediately felt a little easier to breathe.

You saw each other rarely, almost by chance: on the street, at a coffee shop, once he walked you home, and you didn't want him to leave. Everything was simple. No promises, no words. Just moments. Just you and him.

He just listened. And you felt like a real person when you were with him.

⸻

And then – Mom. She said it during dinner, calmly, as if she were talking about going to the pharmacy:

"I met a nice guy. I hope you don't mind if he comes over?"

You froze. You nodded silently. She didn't mention a name. For now.

⸻

A week later, he entered the house.

You stood in the hallway. He was in the doorway, with flowers, in his usual coat. A smile on his face, and in his eyes—a split-second pause. He saw you. You—him.

Mom, with a smile: "This is Neil. My... well, friend. I think he'll soon become more than just a friend."

*You were looking at him. And he was looking at you. He didn't say a word. No surprise, no drama. He just barely pressed his lips together, as if to not reveal a single extra feeling.

"Nice to meet you," he said. Flatly. In a strange voice. Not the one you knew.

You nodded. Your heart pounded somewhere in your throat. You were all silence.

⸻

In the evening, you went outside for a walk. He followed. Without a word. He just walked beside you, as before.

"I didn't know," he said. "Honestly. I would have..."

before everything changed