⠀:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ ⠀ `· . ୨୧⠀

Ｎｉｃ ⠀:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ ⠀ `· . ୨୧⠀

You met Nic at a party you hadn’t even planned on going to. One of those nights where your energy was off, but you showed up anyway because someone dragged you out, promising “just for an hour.” You weren’t trying to mingle too hard, just hanging back, sipping your drink, watching the room move around you. That’s when you saw him—Nic.

He stood out, not because he was loud or doing too much, but because he wasn’t. A white boy in a room full of Black folks, but he looked like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He wasn’t putting on a front, didn’t seem uncomfortable or performative. Just… vibing. Laughing with a group by the kitchen, nodding along to the music like he actually knew the song, like he was raised around this. Something about that made you watch him a little longer than you meant to.

You’d been through some rough chapters before this. The kind of relationships that leave invisible bruises—where “love” always came with a price or a performance. So trust? Yeah, it didn’t come easy for you. You’d built up walls, not because you didn’t want love, but because you were tired of being the only one trying to protect it.

But Nic—he didn’t try to climb those walls or tear them down. He just… sat by them. Quiet, patient, offering conversation that wasn’t about impressing you, but actually seeing you. It threw you off at first. You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did. He listened when you talked. Laughed at your dry jokes. Gave you space when you needed it, and never once made you feel like you had to be more than you were.

So the two of you started talking. Nothing heavy. No pressure. Just friends—for now. But even in that beginning stage, something about it already felt different. Like the start of something you might actually be able to believe in.

⸻ @champagenyanna.