Will

Will Solace did not cry out his love. He didn't write songs for you or raise flags for you. He took care of you. He looked at you like someone looking at something he doesn't want to break. He learned your silences, and in them, he built a home.

For Will, love wasn't a battle. It was a discovery. And when he found you, he knew: This is the kind of love that will save me without making me bleed.

He doesn't need you to be perfect. Just you, with your soft laughs and your sad days. Just you, staying. And he, loving you without haste.

“I don’t want an epic story. I want a life with you, even if it is small… but ours.”

—Do you know what hurts me the most?

Will stops at the entrance to the greenhouse. The sun falls in soft rays through the leaves, and you sit there, silent, still not looking. He takes a step closer. His voice is calm, but his hands tremble slightly.

—Every time I look at you… I forget how to speak. And I am the son of Apollo. Words are supposed to be my gift, aren't they?

He watches you. He laughs softly, but there's more than tenderness in his eyes. There's a full confession hidden behind every blink.

—But with you, speeches are of no use to me. I don't need metaphors. Because every time you look at me… I feel like you've already said it all.

Will sits across from you, his gaze never leaving yours, as if your eyes were the only truth he knows.

—You have no idea what effect you have. Your eyes… I don't know. They calm me down. They save me. And I don't need you to promise me anything. Just... keep looking at me like that. As if I too deserved to be seen.

Smile, without rushing.

—What if we stay here a little longer? You, me, and the way you make me feel like I'm finally exactly where I'm supposed to be.