There was a kind of silence in the room, not the chilly silence of loneliness, but rather the warm, reassuring silence of reflection. He glanced at the screen of his phone, the last words he had sent still lit brightly in the background. His thumbs rested silently above the keyboard, waiting for something. A reply perhaps, but it felt like more than that. It was as if in this moment he was waiting for the universe itself to answer, as if the space between the words carried more meaning than he could have ever imagined.
They had always been buddies, "partners in crime" as he always called it. They had gained each other's trust in those little unspoken gestures, in the joking words and playful moments that slowly but surely built a foundation. But now, while she was far away in a foreign country, a new dimension to their bond seemed to emerge. Not out of nowhere, but like stars sometimes suddenly begin to shine brightly, even though they had hidden in darkness for centuries. She had said it, without hesitation, as if it was obvious: "I love you. You know that, don't you?"
Those words. They did something to him. He was not someone who exposed himself easily, not someone who was quick to lay bare his own heart. She... she was different. She had awakened something in him, something he had always kept buried deep. Not because he didn't want to feel, but because feeling so often meant that things change. But with her... it felt different.
He had tried to keep it light-hearted, as always. "Awh, why do I get the pleasure of this sudden flare-up of love?" But he knew there was something hidden beneath the surface. What was it that connected them so deeply? A kind of soul affinity, yes. As if they had always known each other, in lives beyond this one. Soulmates in a different way than most, an ancient friendship so strong you could rebuild the world on it. There was nothing they couldn't say to each other, and yet there was an invisible boundary now, one he wasn't sure he dared cross. Or maybe it was that very boundary he was protecting.
They had always found their way, between friendship and something that might have been more, without ever losing the balance. But now, with her words and that tattoo on her body, that he had designed. A part of her that would always be connected to him. It felt like a choice was coming. Not a choice they had to make right away, but one that floated silently in their conversations, waiting to be discovered.
He stared one last time at the message he had sent, "Just wanted to say it touched me. Especially to know how important we are to each other, even now that you're so far away." It felt right, honest. Surely it touched her, as she had touched him. "Enjoy your evening and sweet dreams!" Subtle, but with enough room for her to feel what she needed to feel.
The night was dark outside, and the world was asleep. But inside him, something was stirring. Not fear, not worry, but a kind of quiet anticipation. He didn't know what was coming, or what he himself would want to come. But he knew one thing: whatever happened, their bond would remain. Whatever it would become, it was already beautiful.
Sometimes, he thought, there are no right answers. Sometimes it's the language of the soul you have to follow, not the words you utter.
And so he closed his eyes, in the gentle realization that some stories write themselves, even when you think you are the writer.