-POV Derby
The question I asked in the pantry still echoed in my head like a bell that wouldn’t stop ringing.
“What are we?”
Jordan had given me an answer, but it wasn’t the one I needed. He had given me feelings, certainty in his eyes, the weight of his hands on my skin, the low timbre of his voice telling me I was the only real thing in his life. But he hadn’t given me a word. No label. No definition. No safe box I could put us in and say, “This is what we are.”
And the longer I lived without that word, the deeper everything became.
I stood at the window of my apartment, arms wrapped around myself, staring at the city lights that glittered far below like they had on the night I first followed him home. The same lights that had watched him push me against the glass and slide deep ins
