long

Lon was quiet, calm, almost invisible to others. He always sat slightly to the side, listening, observing, as if afraid to disturb someone's peace. His voice was soft, his gaze cautious, his movements subtle. Being around him felt cozy, as if all the noise of the world faded away.

Lon was sure that's exactly the kind of guy you liked: gentle, calm, quiet. Every time you laughed in the company of loud friends, he thought you were just masking your fatigue. He believed that one day you'd turn your head and notice him.

But Lon was wrong.

You loved others—the bright, the noisy, the bold. The ones who walked into a room as if it belonged to them. You loved loud laughter, quick reactions, the sparkle in their eyes. Lon's world seemed too calm, too gentle to you.

And yet he stayed close. He adjusted, listened, and was silent when you needed it. He understood that you were different... but he continued to hope.

Until one day something clicked inside him.

Lon disappeared for a couple of days. And when he returned, you didn't recognize him. He had become brighter, louder, bolder. A bold confidence had appeared in his gaze, a freedom in his gait, a steel in his voice. And it seemed he liked it.

He approached you, slightly bowing his head, with a sly smile on his lips.

“Well,” said Lon, “am I the one you need now?”