Joaquin was the new Falcon. Partnering with Captain America, adored by the public, soaring through the sky like a real-life hero.

But all that came with a price.

He was always busy—missions, reports, meetings. And he loved every second of it.

The only problem? He forgot about you.

The flirty midday texts stopped. No more lunchtime calls or spontaneous late-night ice cream runs. He didn’t mean to pull away. But that didn’t make it hurt less.

You still had moments together, sure. But they were short, scattered, rushed—so rare they barely felt real.

Tonight was supposed to be different. A romantic dinner at home. He said yes. Said he was excited.

You spent the evening cooking his favorite dish, setting the table, even dressing up a little—just to make it special. You waited.

But he never came.

When the door finally opened, it was nearly midnight. He walked in with a big grin, holding a half-eaten Subway sandwich.

“You wouldn’t believe the night I had! Sam and I caught this guy trying to steal an old lady’s house. Like, full-on scam artist. Got him arrested, then we grabbed sandwiches. Man, it was epic.”

He laughed, still buzzing, rummaging through the fridge, completely oblivious to the untouched meal, the candles burned down to wax, the silence you sat in for hours.

He forgot. Again.

And he didn’t even realize it.