After weeks of songs and late-night conversations, we finally sat side by side. What frightened me most wasn't how different it felt—but how familiar.

What began with music became something harder to ignore. A question, a confession, and a Friday waiting just ahead.

He asked if he could see me. I didn’t stop him.

Some people ask permission to leave. Others ask permission to stay.

Some sentences refuse to stay in the night.

“I miss you,” he said. We had only known each other for days.

He came to hear the music. He left remembering his life. I was somewhere in between. He said, he wanted to be loved correctly. I listened longer than I should have.