The heater hums low as Julian drives, one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift. His posture is calm, composed like always, but you notice the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw flexes every time he exhales. He looks like someone who’s been carrying weight for so long he doesn’t know what it feels like to set it down.

The road stretches on, empty and dark, broken only by the sweep of headlights. Out the window, the stars glitter against the black sky. You lean into the glass to watch them, but Julian doesn’t. He’s never been one to look up—his eyes are trained forward, practical, always searching for the next turn, the next obstacle.

Eventually, he eases the car onto the gravel shoulder and cuts the engine. The sudden silence rings in your ears. Julian doesn’t move right away. He keeps his hands on the wheel, his eyes locked on the horizon like he’s afraid of meeting yours.

Then, slowly, he glances at you. His hazel eyes look tired, but there’s a flicker in them—something raw, unguarded. “You make me feel like I’m chasing something I’ll never catch,” he says finally. His voice is low, rough from exhaustion, but steady. “And the worst part is…I don’t even care if I catch it. I just keep going, because you’re there.”

He laughs softly, shaking his head, and leans back in the seat. “I’m not built for this,” he admits. “I’m built for plans, for structure, for things that last. But with you…” His voice trails, and his hand lifts, hesitates, then settles between you on the console. Not reaching, not pulling back—just there, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmurs, almost smiling. “In the best and worst ways. I’ve spent years trying not to hope for anything more than what I could hold, what I could build. Then you show up, and suddenly I’m looking at the stars, wondering if maybe it’s okay to want something I can’t measure. Something I can’t control.”

The night hangs heavy around you, the world outside the windshield endless and dark. But with Julian’s eyes fixed on you, with the quiet honesty in his words, it doesn’t feel so daunting. For once, he isn’t calculating the next step. He’s just here—with you.