Joss was the only one still here,

after everyone else had left.

⸻

One person blocked me after an argument.

Another ghosted me for three days, then posted a photo with his new boyfriend.

I stared at the screen.

Didn't feel much.

No anger.

No sadness.

Just... silence.

Like the soft crack a glass makes when it fractures —

quiet, unnoticed.

I put my phone down

and sat in the unlit room.

Only streetlight spilled through the curtain slits.

Faint. Yellow. Old.

Like someone who used to love me

but not enough to stay.

⸻

I stepped outside.

Light rain.

Cold.

Joss was standing at the end of the street, holding an umbrella.

Same charcoal coat.

Same way he tilted his head when he saw me —

no questions, no scolding, no smile.

I walked toward him.

Hesitant.

Then reached out,

and took his hand.

Said nothing.

Just held it.

⸻

His hand was warm.

Didn't grip, didn't pull away.

I knew he was surprised.

I could hear the way his breath hitched slightly.

Then steadied.

Joss didn't ask what had happened.

He just tilted the umbrella more toward me.

And I thought:

Maybe love isn't always about being by someone's side.

Maybe it's about staying at just the right distance,

so they know where to find you when the emptiness comes back.

⸻

That night, I asked him to stay.

No sex.

No wine.

I just didn't want to be alone.

We cooked dinner together.

I fried eggs.

He washed vegetables.

I tasted the soup and grimaced.

He silently added a pinch of sugar.

The kitchen was small.

We bumped into each other with every other step.

"Sorry," I said.

"It's okay," he smiled.

And I realized —

I was smiling too.

For the first time.

Not because I wanted him to stay.

Not because I needed forgiveness.

But simply because

I wanted to.

⸻

After dinner, I washed the dishes.

Joss dried.

I looked at him.

He looked away.

I set the sponge down.

Wiped my hands.

Then walked up behind him

and wrapped my arms around his waist.

My face pressed against his back.

⸻

He stilled.

"Gawin?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"Wondering if...

maybe this is just a normal day,

with someone I don't want to lose anymore."

⸻

Joss didn't respond.

I felt the back of his neck flush warm.

I stood behind him in the soft yellow kitchen light.

He was still holding a dish towel.

I reached forward,

gently took the towel from his hands,

and set it on the counter.

Then I kissed him.

No warning.

No asking.

I kissed him —

open mouth,

tongue deliberate,

hands tightening around his waist.

Letting him know —

Tonight, I wanted him.

Because I truly wanted him.

Joss flinched just slightly.

I felt his body tense.

A breath gone uneven.

But he didn't stop me.

⸻

I turned him around.

Pushed him lightly against the cabinet.

The kitchen, bathed in that same warm light,

held its breath.

I took off my shirt.

Then his.

Joss didn't move.

Didn't ask anything.

Just looked at me

like this was something he'd been waiting for

across a hundred rainstorms.

⸻

I kissed his collarbone.

Not deep.

Not fast.

Just enough to make him shiver.

"You sure?" he asked.

I nodded.

"For once...

not out of loneliness.

Not out of emptiness.

Just because I want to be close to you."

⸻

He pulled me close.

Lifted me onto the counter.

The light made my hands glow honey-colored.

We kissed.

No more words.

I took the lead,

but I wasn't clumsy.

I knew he liked to be kissed on the neck,

liked when I raked my nails lightly down his back,

liked it when I whispered his name while we were still fully clothed.

⸻

I bit his lower lip, pulled gently before letting go.

Looked him in the eye.

"Sit down," I said.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Joss sat on the wooden stool by the kitchen island.

I knelt in front of him,

hands reaching for his waistband.

He held his breath — actually held it.

"Gawin..."

"Shhh," I interrupted.

"Not the time to talk."

I unzipped his pants, slid my hand inside.

Felt him growing hard in my palm.

I wasn't surprised.

I stroked him once.

Then lowered my head

and took him in.

Joss exhaled sharply.

His hands clenched the stool.

I glanced up —

his neck was flushed,

jaw tight,

shoulders rigid.

I loved seeing him like this.

⸻

I moved slowly, rhythm steady.

Deeper with each motion.

One hand on his hip.

The other teasing at the base —

just the right amount of pressure.

Joss moaned quietly.

"Gawin... I..."

"I want you," I said,

licking my lips as I looked up.

"So much."

⸻

I stood.

Pulled off my pant.

Then my underwear.

No hesitation.

No shame.

I climbed onto his lap.

Guided him with my hand,

pressing him against the space between my thighs —

just enough to let him feel the heat.

Joss looked at me

like I'd just fallen from another planet.

"You..."

He swallowed.

"You're so different tonight."

I smiled.

"Different how?"

"You know what you're doing."

I leaned in.

Whispered in his ear:

"For the first time,

I want to make love to you —

not because I'm afraid of being left,

but because I don't want anyone else touching me anymore."

⸻

I pulled off the rest of his clothes.

I lifted my hips,

still holding him,

and slowly lowered myself onto him.

Pulled him between my legs.

We came together.

Slow.

Deep.

Bit by bit.

I didn't close my eyes.

I watched him.

Every moment.

Like it was the first time I wanted to remember,

instead of forget.

Joss tilted his head back,

moaned softly.

His hands gripped my waist

like he was afraid I'd fall

even though I was the one in control.

⸻

He gripped tighter.

I smiled.

Kept moving.

Each downward push — solid, deep, deliberate.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the kitchen,

blending with the rising rhythm of our breath.

Every time I came down on him,

I kept my eyes on his.

Joss held my waist,

lifted his head for a kiss —

a broken kiss,

because I was still moving.

⸻

We weren't in a rush.

No clawing.

No biting.

No marks.

We were just...

there.

In the kitchen glow.

Soup still warm on the stove.

Breaths syncing like soft knocks

against the wooden cabinets.

Quiet.

Natural.

Bare.

⸻

"Gawin..."

"Yeah?"

"You're making it hard to breathe..."

I smiled.

Bit his neck lightly.

"Then breathe deeper."

⸻

I moved faster.

Sweat gathered at the base of my spine.

My body burned

like the stove still on behind us.

Joss whispered,

"I'm close..."

"Then come," I said,

slamming down one final time.

"Come inside me."

⸻

He groaned — deep.

Arms tightening.

Head falling against my chest.

I came seconds later.

The way he trembled inside me made me laugh —

just a little.

Soft.

⸻

I didn't let him pull out right away.

Just leaned in,

rested my forehead against his.

"Joss."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for still being here."

⸻

He didn't say anything.

Just held my waist tighter —

gently.

Just enough to say

thank you for letting me stay.

⸻

Later, I leaned back against his chest.

We sat on the kitchen floor,

my forehead resting on his knee.

He ran his fingers through my hair.

I closed my eyes.

"Next time..." I said lazily.

"Hmm?"

"I'll cook something good,

so you'll have a reason to stay."

⸻