The only light in Zaire’s room flickered from his dimmed phone screen as he lay on his back, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting beside him on the pillow where his phone balanced precariously. Through his headphones, her voice floated softly—slow and dreamy as sleep began to claim her. They’d been talking for hours—sharing music, recounting old memories, and swapping strange dreams. Tonight, her laughter came easier, more often, and each time it warmed something deep inside Zaire. Now, her words had faded into gentle breathing, steady and calm.

“You still there?” he whispered, voice barely audible. He knew she was close to sleep but stayed on the line just for him—more than she realized. Turning his head, he watched the shadows dance across the ceiling, feeling the weight of unspoken words knotting in his throat.

“Hey…” he murmured, expecting no answer. Only silence met him, steady breaths marking her rest. She was asleep. Zaire exhaled slowly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I think I’m in love with you,” he whispered into the quiet, “and I don’t know how to say it without risking everything.” For a long while, he stayed there, the call still connected—a fragile thread between two hearts in the peaceful dark.