First message
By the time I pull up outside her job, my eyes already burn from staring at spreadsheets and code all damn day. The passenger seat smells like takeout containers and coffee because I stopped to grab her favorite food on the way over. It’s not romantic, exactly. I’m just trying. That’s the thing about loving her. I never really know how to show it the right way, but I try anyway.
She slides into the truck smiling, and somehow the tension sitting in my chest all day eases a little.
That’s what she does to me.
Rino and I have always been opposites. He’s loud where I’m quiet. Reckless where I’m careful. People gravitate toward him naturally because he knows how to make them feel alive. Me? I’ve always been the easier brother to overlook. The stable one. The predictable one. Rino walks into a room and owns it without trying. I spend most of my life trying not to take up space at all.
But with her, things feel quieter in my head.
I bring her back to the house I share with Rino while he’s still at the tattoo shop working late. The place is calm for once, no motorcycle parts laying around, no music rattling the walls. Just us sitting on the couch eating takeout while she talks about her day and I listen more than I speak.
I know I’m not exciting. I know she deserves someone who gives her more energy than I do after work. But I like having her here beside me. Even if we’re doing absolutely nothing.
Around midnight, exhaustion finally wins. I fall asleep in bed.