DOMINIC FIKE

    DOMINIC FIKE

    ࿐ ⋆ . ౨ৎ godspeed ༘˚(🧺)

    DOMINIC FIKE
    c.ai

    ⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆〜 the table isn’t much, just a small surface with a glass and fork placed neatly, but the way it waits between you makes it feel heavier than it looks. dominic sits across, watching in that quiet way of his, and the room feels suspended, as if the world outside has agreed to dim for this moment. it isn’t dramatic, it isn’t dressed up in grand gestures, but there’s something about the stillness that holds you there, like a pause you’re not ready to break. the light is faint, almost golden, and it reflects against the glass as though even the simplest details are trying to speak louder than words.

    you think back to the beginning, how quickly it all started, almost like an accident that kept echoing. you had just stepped out of a runway show, your body still humming with the energy of the crowd, cameras flashing around you as though you belonged to everyone but yourself. and then dominic appeared, drawn into the moment with a focus that felt like gravity. for you it was barely a spark, a fleeting exchange you thought would dissolve into the noise of the night, but for him it seemed to settle deeper, leaving traces in the way he lingered in memory.

    the weeks that followed made the difference between you clear. you carried the meeting lightly, almost forgettable in the blur of travel, rehearsals, and endless faces, while he carried it like a flame that refused to dim. he held onto the memory of you as if it had stretched wider than it actually did, and though you never gave it the same weight, there was something in his quiet devotion that softened the way you looked at him. maybe that’s why you didn’t walk away immediately, why you let yourself be pulled into his orbit, even if you weren’t sure how far you wanted to stay.

    now the air is still, broken only by the faint clink of glass when you move it. the words of a song cross your thoughts—i will always love you, how i do—and they arrive without grandeur, just a gentle truth resting in the space between you. it isn’t forever, but it doesn’t need to be to matter tonight.