Just us.
And the weight of every unsaid word sat between us like the space before a storm.
I exhaled slowly, watching the way my breath fogged in the air. “Y-you hurt me,” I said, the words quiet, trembling, but honest.
He turned to me instantly, sharp, alert, as if the words physically hit him, but I didn’t stop.
“A lot.” My voice cracked, but I didn’t care. “Since the day I came. You—you made me feel small, like I didn’t belong anywhere. I believed you. Every word. I b-believed.”
He looked down, jaw tight, but still said nothing.
“I tried to hate you for it.” My throat burned. “I tried so hard. But then you—” I swallowed hard, blinking fast as my eyes stung. “You s-started changing. Making me feel weird here.” I tapped my chest, clutching the fabric of my shirt.
The first firework went off somewhere in the distance, soft, red, blooming across the sky like a wound that didn’t hurt anymore.
“And t-these past few days,” I continued, voice barely above a whisper, “you’ve been…comforting. You’ve been real. I didn’t think y-you could be… you are. And it feels like I’m safe again.”
Another firework.
Then another.
And soon the sky was filled with colour: white, gold, pink, everything bursting open all at once.
I turned away from him, feeling my heart pounding against my palm, which never left my chest.
“I don’t know w-what this is. I don’t know if I’m forgiving you or—or if I’m just tired of fighting the feeling, but—” I breathed out. “It’s okay. It’s okay now.”
I looked at the fireworks again, letting the glow wash over my face, because it was easier than looking at him.
“I feel okay… and you did that.”
—
Joshua
Her voice echoed in my head long after she stopped talking.
I feel okay… and you did that.
The words crawled under my skin and stayed there, burning, raw and tender at the same time.
She stood next to me, the fireworks lighting her face in bursts of colour: soft pinks, golds, blues. She looked unreal, like the kind of thing you only get to see once.
I couldn’t speak.
She was seeing me again, even after I spent months trying to make her look away.
The noise from the city below blurred out, replaced by the sound of my own pulse, heavy and uneven. My fingers twitchedat my side, aching to reach out, to touch her, to say I’m sorry without using words, but I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
Because she looked peaceful. And I didn’t want to ruin that. So I just stood there beside her, watching the reflection of fireworks dance in her eyes.
If she were peace, then maybe I was the storm that finally learnt how to stay quiet.
The glow from the fireworks washed over her face, soft and warm. Every few seconds, the light would shift, catching in her eyes until it looked like the whole damn city was burning inside them.
She turned to me. Slowly. Hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure if she should.
