Sara Ikari Rodriguez
He stood in front of me like he didn’t know whether to leave or fall apart.
And I stood there knowing I couldn’t fix him.
Not fully.
But maybe I didn’t need to.
Maybe I just needed to meet him where he was — broken, cold, and still showing up.
My hand slid into his slowly.
He looked down at our fingers like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“Matio,” I whispered.
He raised his eyes.
And I kissed him.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
Just… real.
A soft meeting of lips that asked nothing and promised nothing, but said everything we were too scared to admit.
He didn’t kiss me back at first.
Not because he didn’t want to.
But because he wasn’t used to being touched without being expected to perform or control or fix.
But the second I began to pull away, his f
