Fallon
For weeks, we’d been living separate lives.
We passed each other like strangers in this massive house — polite, distant, and pretending the kiss that changed everything never happened.
He worked late. I buried myself in content creation. And the silence stretched so long, I almost started to believe this was how it was always going to be.
There were moments — brief, fleeting — when the distance slipped. The brush of his hand when we reached for the same thing. The way his eyes would linger a second too long when he thought I wasn’t looking. The tension that built every time we were in the same room, thick and electric, even when we weren’t speaking.
But neither of us crossed the line.
And the space between us kept growing.
Work kept me busy.
Campaigns rolled in, brand deals
