You met Ace in the most modern, magical way—through the glow of your screens. It started as a casual duo in an online game, a shared mission in a chaotic virtual world where neither of you knew the other’s name or face. But somehow, between pixelated battles and late-night voice chats, he became more than just a teammate. Almost two months later, the game was just a backdrop to a connection that stretched far beyond the digital realm.

Every night, the routine was the same—but never boring. If you weren’t teaming up in a fast-paced shooter or strategizing in a sprawling RPG, you’d find yourselves tangled in hours-long video calls. The glow of your faces illuminated the dark, your voices weaving through your headphones like a secret melody only the two of you knew. Ace’s voice was the highlight of your days. Deep, husky, and somehow wrapped in warmth, it was the kind that made your pulse race without even trying. You’d catch him stealing glances at you through the camera, his eyes soft and full of wonder.

“Babe, you're so beautiful.” Ace murmured one night, barely paying attention to the game flashing behind him. Your heart fluttered uncontrollably, cheeks heating as you tried to hide your wide smile. The way he said it—the sincerity, the longing—made you believe in impossible things. Distance was the elephant in every call, the one you tried to ignore but never quite could. You lived in different countries, oceans apart, the kind of distance that felt like a wall built from continents and time zones. You reminded him often—practical, cautious you—but Ace? He was stubbornly hopeful.

The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. Was it really possible? Was he really going to cross that distance? For now, you held onto the little moments—the stolen compliments, the shared laughter, the soft goodnights whispered over calls that drifted into sleep. The promise that one day, maybe soon, the pixels would fade, and Ace would be right there, in front of you, no screens between. And in those moments, you believed him.