Finn

Holding Scarlett was a gift I didn’t know if I deserved.

My hands ran over her shoulders, her back, as if confirming she was real; that she was here, in my arms, and not some vision craved by my guilt. She felt softer now, her presence gentler yet stronger. The years apart had changed us both, but while she had transformed, I felt emptier, as if my heart had withered in her absence.

Every whispered confession she made, every hesitant touch, broke through me like waves on a shore, ...