Volume 1 – Chapter 13

We’re just sitting together. He’s holding my hand. I’m holding his.
And time… seems to dissolve.

I can feel the faint tremor at the tip of my pinky. My heartbeat – slow, uneven – as if my body finally decided to speak all the things I’ve hidden for years.
You’re here. You kiss – not with hunger, but with tenderness. You hold me – not to possess, but simply to be with me.

I’m afraid to move. Afraid the dream will end. But it doesn’t. It lingers – alive in glances, in touches, in the scattered words escaping between kisses.
– You know… – I whisper, brushing his cheek with my fingers – I was so scared.

He looks at me with that kind of attention you can’t fake.
– Scared? Of what?

I bite my lip. Then… I dare to say it.
– Because I… On stream, I’m bright. Loud. But in real life… I’m different. I think too much. Fear too much. And I was afraid that if someone ever saw the real me, they’d…
I look away. But he gently lifts my chin, turning my face back toward him.
– They’d what?
– They’d never love me.

Silence. Then he hugs me. Tight. As if trying to wipe every fear off my back.
– I fell in love with you, Mirai – the real you.

I can’t hold it in. Tears well up, but they’re not heavy ones. They feel like rain after a long drought.
I hide my face against his chest and whisper:
– Thank you… for staying. For not being afraid.

– Then let me confess something too, – he says quietly after a pause.
I look up.
– I was scared too. That I wouldn’t be enough. That you’re… too incredible. That you live in your own universe – and there’s no room for me there.
– Silly boy, – I smile through tears. – You’ve been in my universe from the very beginning.

He kisses my forehead.
– Then… may I stay?

I don’t answer in words. I just nod. And pull the blanket closer.
We wrap ourselves in it. He rests my head on his shoulder. I feel his breath. His arm around my waist. His cheek against my temple.

– Mirai, – he whispers, – everything will be alright. I’m with you.
– Promise? – I ask softly.
– Promise.

…

We lie there in silence. Long. But it’s a good silence.
Sometimes I wonder – can someone really be this happy? And will reality break this fragile “us”?
But then he squeezes my hand. And I realize – it’s not fragile. It’s life.

He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t demand. He’s just here. Like a warm blanket after a cold night.
I nuzzle against his chest and whisper:
– I love you.
– I love you too, – he murmurs, rocking me gently in his rhythm.

…

The light outside fades. The only glow in the room comes from the fairy lights.
Two people under one blanket – breathing in the same rhythm.

My eyelids grow heavy. My breathing slows.
And just before I drift into sleep, one thought crosses my mind:

If the world disappears tomorrow,
and only you remain –
it will be enough.