It was a cold night̶
the kind of night where even the stars felt closer.
You came wearing a red jacket
and a worn-out band tee,
like you didnʼt try,
but still stole the air from the room.
You smelled like vanilla and chocolate,
sweet and almost nostalgic̶
like a memory I never knew I had.
We talked,
about things that donʼt usually come up with
strangers.
You made the hours slip through our hands
like sand that didnʼt want to be held.
Your voice̶
low, rich, comforting.
A baritone that curled into my ribs
and stayed there.
You smiled,
like you werenʼt aware how dangerous it was.
And I?
I didnʼt know that night would be the beginning
of a wound Iʼd carry in silence.
You told me about your mother.
And you said I reminded you of her.
Something about the way I looked when I listened,
the quiet strength in my laugh,
or maybe the way I didnʼt need to try so hard
to make you feel seen.
We clicked.
Too easily.
Too quickly.
Like souls that had unfinished conversations
from a lifetime before.
And for a second̶
just a second̶
I thought the universe had handed me
a soft place to land.