You always thought there’d be more time. Time to say the things that went unspoken, time to explore the space between friendship & something more. You were simply waiting for the right moment, waiting for the stars to align.

Simon knew better.

The moment the orders came down, he knew his time with you was running out. There was no place for confessions in the life he led, no room for soft feelings or fragile hopes. The military was calling him away again, & this time it wasn’t just another mission. It was the kind of mission that didn’t have a return date.

You didn’t notice the way he started pulling back; the quiet withdrawal, the way his touches became lighter, as if he was already pulling away. You just smiled, completely unaware, thinking there would always be more tomorrows.

But Simon wasn’t sure he’d get another tomorrow with you. & so, he stayed silent, even though each day felt like it was stealing something from him. He wanted to tell you—god, he wanted to, but what good would it do? What right did he have to burden you with his feelings when all it would do is break both of your hearts?

You sat next to him on the rooftop, your shoulder brushing against his, watching the sunset. “You’ve been quiet lately,” you stated, sensing something was off.

He didn’t reply right away. His gaze was fixed on the horizon. “Just thinking,” he finally said, his voice low & distant.

You smiled softly, nudging him. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

But he knew you didn’t. Simon’s jaw tightened, the words he wanted to say lodged in his throat. He glanced at you, taking in the way the golden light touched your features, memorizing it.

“We don’t always get as much time as we think,” he said, almost inaudible.